


The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 4

by Kleinnak



Series: The Adventures of Harriet Potter [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderswap, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 367,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleinnak/pseuds/Kleinnak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius is on trial. A mysterious group gathers to discuss dark omens. A breakthrough in the magical world has just been discovered. Surely nothing can go wrong in the summer leading up to Harriet Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dark and Light

“The higher up the chain of command one goes in a time of conflict, the greyer and greyer reality becomes.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk 

 

The leaves shivered high in the moonlit branches. The sound was chilling, as though even the trees were aware of the grim purpose of the events taking place below. The moon hung full over the ring of polished stone arches that circled the clearing and the twenty-one stone chairs in the centre. A flash of lightning from the approaching storm lit the scene. As if on command, twenty one figures appeared in one of the arches. The figures wore black, hooded cloaks, their features indistinguishable as the light faded once more and thunder shook the canopy.

The figures strode forward and sat in unison. They each raised a hand towards a large stone basin in the centre. The hands were the only parts of the figures visible beyond the cloaks and hoods, and all but three had milk-white skin. Of the three, two had skin as dark chocolate, and another of sandy complexion. A jet of red sparks shot from each hand and they collided in the basin. Despite no apparent fuel, a blazing fire rose in the basin, providing a steadier source of light than before. At the same time, all the sounds of the approaching storm vanished.

The first of the twenty-one stood, his cloak wavering behind him, his feet peeking out from under the hem. His body was erect, but short of stature, no more than five and a half feet tall. Yet, despite his diminutive stature compared to the others, an air of silence fell over the twenty other figures.

“So, Lord Ivan, what can be so important that you summoned us all back here so soon?” asked a tall woman, who sat straight-backed in her seat.

A hint of raven hair could be seen from under the hood. Her accent was thick and hinted at a Mediterranean heritage.

“Yes,” replied another. This one was male. A hulking form under his cloak, he was powerfully built with broad shoulders so wide that another head could be set upon each with room to spare. “It has only been three months.”

“It is important, Lady Houda, Lord Aslan,” Ivan replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His voice was deep and gruff with great age, and thickly Slavic. A thick, bushy goatee could just be seen protruding from the hood in the glowing light of the fire. “Lord Darius and Lord Ayumu have notified me of ill portents which indicate this thirteen years of peace is swiftly coming to an end.”

“And what makes you so sure of that, Lord Ivan?” spoke up another of the figures. This one had a haughty voice, Scandinavian and smooth.

“The centaurs confirm it, Lord Bashkim,” the thin figure that was Darius replied.

“You have gotten more cooperation out of them than my agents then, Lord Darius,” said another. This one’s voice was even deeper than Ivan’s, cracked and hoarse.

“It is not just the centaurs,” spoke a sixth, the one named Ayumu. “The fey tell similar tales of their visions.” This one’s accent was much different than the others, his words clipped and short, and his voice breathy.

“They do, do they, Lord Ayumu?” Bashkim asked, sounding sceptical.

“You can doubt all you want, Lord Bashkim, but the signs are true,” Ayumu retorted.

“I share Lord Bashkim’s reservations,” spoke another figure, another woman this time. “Though perhaps not his disdain. How can you be sure these signs do not coincide with other conflicts already in motion?”

Darius rose. “Yes. The centaurs report Mars is the brightest they’ve ever seen it. Conflict is clearly coming. Though as to how soon, where, and how it will break out, that of course cannot be said,” he paused, “but I have my suspicions.”

“As opposed to the war the Americans now wage with one another?” Bashkim asked.

“I asked the centaurs about that, of course,” Darius replied. “But they insist this is something new. I think it is time we face the fact that it probably means the return of the Nameless One.”

An angry bout of hissing passed about the group at the term ‘Nameless One.’

Ivan added, “And the fey cross-confirm, you say, Lord Ayumu?”

“Hai,” said Ayumu. “That was the grave news I came to bring. The fey see visions of his return. A white figure rising from smoke, blood, and darkness.”

“‘A white figure?’” Bashkim asked. “Perhaps they foretell our own rise back to dominance?”

“Sacrilege,” hissed one of the women.

“Peace, Lady Julia,” Ivan said. “I’m sure Lord Bashkim was speaking only in jest.” The tone of his voice made it clear he was making a suggestion to Bashkim, not an observation.

“Yes, of course, Lord Ivan,” Bashkim said grudgingly.

“I believe there is something to what Lord Darius and Lord Ayumu are saying,” said another of the women. “I bring dark portents as well.”

“More, Lady Janna?” Ivan asked, concerned. “Why did you not report of this at once?”

“I only just learned of it before setting out to travel here,” Janna replied. “My contingent of Horsemen report the usual signs of the Nameless One’s activity in Albania has ceased.”

“Ceased?” asked another of the male figures.

“Yes,” Janna said. “It is just as the incident when he escaped with the one known as Quirrell.”

The figures fell silent at this. Despite being cloaked and hooded, every figure seemed tense and worried.

“That… that is troubling indeed…” Darius said, beginning to pace.

“What is on your mind, Lord Darius?” Ivan asked.

“A member of the Wizarding government of Great Britain has also gone missing,” he said. “I had not thought much of it, but she was last seen in Albania, near the forest the Dark Lord has been rumoured to hide.”

“Missing?” asked another of the dark-skinned figures. “Who?”

“Her name is Bertha Jorkins,” Darius replied.

“Jorkins, I do not recognize that name,” spoke another, even deeper voiced figure. He was tall and willowy, his accent deeply Russian.

“She’s no one of great importance to the British ministry,” Darius said. “She’s so unimportant, in fact, that no one has even gone to look for her from what my sources tell me.”

“And what makes this disappearance so suspicious then?” another figure asked. “If the British Ministry does not even see fit to hunt for its own missing. And if it is so, how can we be sure it is the Nameless One who is behind it?”

“Is Jorkins the sort who would consent to his possession, as the fool Quirrell was?” Ivan asked.

“No,” Darius said. “By all counts my horsemen report that she occupies a minor position in the British Ministry, and has never had any inclinations towards the Dark Arts whatsoever. In fact, she used to work under Crouch.”

At the name Crouch a collective wave of agitated hisses rose.

“No great loss then,” the other dark-skinned figure growled.

“Now, now, Lord Yong. Not everyone gets to choose their superiors.”

The figures spun and pointed their hands at the source of the new voice. Unlike the figures in the clearing, the newcomer was not hooded. Instead, he wore a perfectly clean and pressed black suit. He was a middle-aged man with blonde hair that had mostly gone to grey and a neatly trimmed beard. He had sharp blue eyes that studied each figure in the circle without a trace of fear.

“Morrisey…” Darius said, lowering his hand first.

At once, all the others lowered their hands as well. Professor Johnathan Morrisey’s confident smile grew as he strode into the clearing.

“I see you still disdain wearing traditional garb,” Bashkim said taking in Professor Morrisey’s suit.

“I will say one thing for Muggles,” Professor Morrisey said, unabashed. “They have an excellent sense of propriety and dignity in their higher fashions. I always found robes a particularly lazy form of dress, just draping cloth over one’s self. Now a suit; that is the mark of one who takes pride in their appearance.”

“What brings you here, Morrisey?” Ivan asked. By the sound of it, he trusted Professor Morrisey no more than the others did.

Professor Morrisey’s smile didn’t falter. “Well, as it so happens, I am here on my own business tonight.”

“Is that so?” Ivan asked, his ancient eyes narrowed.

“It is,” Professor Morrisey said. He surveyed the group. “Goodness, what dark tidings must be passing around if even here you won’t remove your hoods.”

The group all exchanged looks and as one finally removed their hoods. Again with the exception of Yong, the other dark-skinned figure who was named Altan, and the sandy-skinned one, named Rashid, all the figures’ skin were milky white. To a casual observer, they would all look quite human. However, on closer inspection, they seemed as though they had been sculpted in the image of humans but with deliberate alterations.

Their eyes were large, and glinted prominently in the flickering firelight. Their brows were more prominent, and their jaws seemed larger than normal. Their lips were wider, and their faces longer. There were other recognizable traitsthat spoke to their close relation to humanity. The one named Ayumu bore a strong resemblance to Japanese humans, while Rashid a markedly middle-eastern appearance, and of course Altan and Yong who were unmistakably African.

“Ah, some new faces I see,” Professor Morrisey said. “I take it some covens had elections recently?”

Ivan sniffed. “Yes,” he gestured around. “I suppose for the sake of politeness there should be introductions. Professor Morrisey, may I introduce you to our newest members of the High Council, Lady Sigrid of Finland, and Lord Nickolai of Russia.”

Professor Morrisey bowed to each face in turn.

“Lord Nickolai, Lady Sigrid,” Ivan went on. “This is Professor Johnathan Morrisey, a prominent thinker in the Wizarding world and occasional professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Ivan turned back to Professor Morrisey and bent a very sceptical eye on him. “So, as we have asked, why are you here, Morrisey? I assume it is to bring news.”

“Yes,” Morrisey said. “I come before the High Council to inform you all that your concerns are not exclusively yours, particularly in the area of Jorkins’ disappearance.”

“The Ministry is finally going to take care of its unfinished business then, is it?” asked Visvaldis. He was balding on top with snow-white hair and beard.

“Alas, not,” Morrisey said. “But Albus does share your concern over the _Nameless One’s_ return. Not a fortnight ago, a former servant of the Nameless One’s who had been in hiding, under our very nose, was revealed but escaped. A seer foretold he would return to his master and return him to power.”

“More prophecies…” Bashkim grumbled. As he did so his teeth flashed. They were pure white, and the canines, while not excessive, were much more prominent than a normal human’s, and the incisors between them were straight, even, and pointed.

“Yes, unfortunately, we have a strong reason to believe this time the prophecy is one to take very seriously,” Morrisey replied. “The last time this particular seer made a confirmed prophecy, she foresaw the fall of the Nameless One.”

“I see…” Ivan answered, his brows knit in thought. “That is certainly something we must take into consideration. But why have you come alone? Why has neither Albus nor the Ambassador come to us?”

“Oh they’re quite busy enough with their own matters,” Professor Morrisey said. “Wrapped up in trifling distractions. I, however, am not so naïve.”

“No, none would accuse you of such a failing,” said Murad, the deepest voiced and tallest of the figures with a flowing white beard and hair to rival Albus Dumbledore’s.

“You flatter me. No… I believe that if he does make it back to Britain, as the prophecy tells, we will need all the help we can request. And so I have come to ask that more Horsemen be brought to Britain just in case. I would much prefer to crush the basilisk as an egg than to allow it to grow to a monster.”

“We do not follow the orders of your kind,” hissed another female figure, her eyes burning.

“Yes, of course,” Professor Morrisey said, bowing. “I meant no disrespect, Lady Cadence. I am here to request only.”

“If the Nameless One returns to Britain, my Horsemen will hunt for him,” Darius said, confidently.

“I am pleased to hear it, Lord Darius,” Professor Morrisey said.

Darius’ old eyes narrowed. “However, I in turn have another concern I had hoped to bring to the Council’s attention, which makes it a very coincidental you are here, Morrisey.”

“Is that so?” Professor Morrisey asked.

“What matter is this?” Ivan demanded.

Darius did not take his eyes off of Professor Morrisey. “Whilst visiting the centaurs in the forests around Hogwarts, I happened into the town of Hogsmeade. And that is where I saw the boy in the Hog’s Head tavern… he’s unmistakable, the spitting image of his father and grandfather.”

Professor Morrisey raised his eyebrows. “By chance you are referring to young Master Stevens?"

“Yes, precisely.”

“What of this boy, Darius?” Ayumu asked.

“He is another we have feared for some time,” Darius said.

The figures hissed again. Rashid rose from his chair, his sandy skin paling.

“You don’t mean…”

“I am afraid I do, my friend,” Darius said. “I have discovered the offspring of the Split Man.”

“Feared?” Professor Morrisey asked. “He’s just a boy, he’s not even magical. What about him could possibly scare _you_ , Lord Rashid? You fought in the _Crusades_ ,” he went on, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“If Lord Darius is correct, that’s not a boy,” Rashid hissed through his pointed teeth. “That’s an abomination.”

Professor Morrisey raised his eyebrows, clearly quite interested.

“A product of the unnatural arts of the last dark lord before the Nameless One…”

“Grindelwald? I see… interesting that Albus never mentioned this…” Professor Morrisey said, stroking his beard. “But I’ve known the boy for years myself. I recall his being brought to Hogsmeade as an infant. I was sure there was something fishy about the boy’s story but as he grew he gave no indication of being anything other than an ordinary squib.”

Darius’ eyes narrowed. “The boy is not the direct product of Grindelwald and his minions’ perversions of nature…” he paused looking at Professor Morrisey darkly. “Nor is he a squib… but the boy’s grandfather was turned into a monster at their hands, and his father succumbed to the same fate. Whatever Grindelwald and his minions did, it did not die out with the original; it was passed on to his offspring. The boy is nearing the age his father was when he turned. It was we who put down his grandfather, and his father eluded a contingent of wolves and minotaurs for two years before a faun assassin managed to put a cursed arrow in him.”

“And his father was not as strong as the original article,” Ivan said, slumping into his chair.

“But if his father was not as strong as his grandfather, what’s the surety that the boy will be anything like them? It is an admittedly small sample-size, but it sounds as if it declines in power with each successive generation.”

“That is a risk I, as head of the coven of Great Britain, am unwilling to take. I will note that it seems even Professor Dumbledore is still addressing the risk,” Darius said. “And I am most displeased that he thought to hide this pending terror rather than turn it over to we who could deal with it properly.”

“Ahhh, so you think that is why he is keeping Aurochius and his merry band about? I see... I see…” Professor Morrisey said, his eyes narrowed with interest. “Tell me more…”

### * * * *

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, another storm was brewing. It was the beginning of the rainy season on the Serengeti. Lightning flickered in the distance, steadily getting closer. However, the man sitting under the thin, invisible tent of demiguise hair paid it no mind.

First of all, he was far too enraptured with the spectacle unfolding before him. Second of all, he could not hear the thunder getting louder through the magical earmuffs he was wearing to block out the sound of the fwoopers calling from the nearby Salvadora tree. He found the fwoopers amusing creatures to observe in their natural habitat, but did not relish the thought of the inevitable madness that came as a result of listening to their songs.

But he wasn’t here for the fwoopers. He was here because of the nearby herd of erumpents.

“Nick Sutler: biologist. Notes for Saturday, the 18th of July, Nineteen Ninety Four,” the man dictated, whispering to a self-writing quill which danced across a sheet of parchment, writing down his words. “Have set up an observation post near the herd.”

Sutler grunted as he pulled out his trusty, well-worn pair of omnioculars and began to survey the herd.

“At present, looks as though the coming of the rain has the erumpents on edge. They could sense something I don’t yet, will continue observation.”

Erumpents, as their smaller, non-magical cousin the rhinoceros, had poor eye-sight. The thick rain would hamper this even further, and would cover the sound of approaching predators. This was putting the erumpents on edge, and even more so because they were with calves. He could see the cows crowding around the young calves, pushing them to the middle of the herd.

Sutler grinned in almost indecent anticipation. This was what he had been waiting all his life to see. There was only a handful of predators in the entire world that could put erumpents so on edge. One was dragons. The other was the massive, and even more deadly nundu; the monstrous, poison-breathed leopard.

Sutler began to scan the rest of the waving grass now. The storm was nearing, the wind and rain whipping the tall grass around. He was sure the massive cat would not be too difficult to spot, even in the storm.

It was known that nundu fed on erumpents. Plenty of erumpent carcasses had been found which showed clear signs of nundu predation, and likewise dead nundu had been found bearing the hallmarks of being stabbed by erumpents’ massive, spiralling horns and blown up by the volatile fluid that the erumpents injected into their targets.

Yet no one had ever actually witnessed the event of a nundu hunting erumpents first hand. Now, by the looks of it, he just might be the first.

“Erumpents getting more anxious,” he said to the quill. “Keeping lookout for nundu—wait!”

He leaned forward, his hands gripping tighter on the omnioculars. There it was. It was unmistakable; a massive, slow-moving mound of sage-coloured fur with black spots. The nundu was moving as close to the ground as it could. The colours would easily confuse the near-sighted erumpent.

Sutler checked the wind. The nundu was moving on the erumpents from downwind, typical hunting behaviour amongst its smaller big-cat cousins to hide its scent. However, that would be a disadvantage in using the nundu’s most potent weapon, its poisonous breath, which was the most widely accepted method of how the nundu went about catching erumpents.

Sutler however did not buy the hypothesis. Most erumpents found bearing the marks of nundu predation were single-kills. The nundu’s breath was not specialized enough to target single individuals, and so far no one had found collections of erumpents dead from poisoning. Sutler’s hypothesis was that the poison breath was an adaptation for defence of nundu cubs rather than an adaptation to aid in hunting.

Even more frustrating to Sutler was the magical world’s lack of interest in the possibilities. The last person to give any study to African magical fauna had been Newt Scamander, and he had been retired for decades. However, since the rise and fall of You-Know-Who, the magical world at large seemed to have lost interest in the world. It was as if You-Know-Who and his followers had sucked all the joy out of the world, all the sense of wonder and splendour.

But not so for Nick Sutler. No, he wasn’t going to give up discovering the world. Not when there was still so much left to see. He’d been fascinated with animals since he was a little boy, always wanting to be a biologist, studying life. After he learned to read as a child, he read every book on animals he could get his hands on. Then, he got his letter from Hogwarts, telling him that he was a wizard. And thus, an entirely new world of discovery was open to Sutler that was there to explore and study.

The erumpents were still shifting around but seemed unaware of the nundu’s approach. Sutler’s grin grew. This was it, it was going to happen. The nundu moved closer and closer still. Sutler hit record on the omnioculars. There was no chance he was going to miss this event for the world.

The nundu sprang into action. It moved across the open terrain with astounding speed for a creature so large. Just then, one of the erumpents spotted it and lifted its head in a bellow of warning. At once, the herd rounded in the direction of the attack and the nundu turned away to disappear (at least from the erumpents) once more, stalking around to another angle.

“Clever, clever,” Sutler muttered. The nundu had given up the attack so quickly that Sutler was sure that it was a feint. It was distracting the erumpents before moving around to launch another attack from another angle. Sutler’s knees were bouncing unconsciously as he watched, he was completely engrossed in the spectacle before him, paying no attention to the storm raging overhead.

Just then there was a flash of light followed by a concussive force that he felt through the ground and his stool. The lightning strike was so close that it spooked the erumpents who scattered. To Sutler’s horror, the nundu gave chase after some of the fleeing erumpents, over a ridge and out of sight.

“No, no, no, no-no-no-no-NO!” Sutler shouted getting to his feet and throwing his magical earmuffs to the ground, knocking over his tent in his rage.

“It’s just a bit of lightning! It’s just lightning! You put up with it every summer you bastards!” he roared over the sound of the storm.

He sighed as his anger faded and disappointment set in. He’d spent two months here, stalking the wilds, waiting for his moment. And there it went, gone in a single atmospheric discharge. Who knew when he would get that chance again?

He grumbled as he started to pack up his gear. He was completely soaked from the rain already when something flickered in the corner of his eye. It was coming from the tree that the fwoopers had been singing in. Sutler froze.

There was no longer a tree there. Instead, there was a stump, and a big, floating, pulsating orb of soft light. Sutler stared for a long while, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He had never seen anything like it in his life. And that was saying something, as a wizard biologist.

He felt a strong sense of reservation, yet his curiosity compelled him to move forward and investigate. He was presented with a mystery, he had to know the truth of what he was encountering. He checked his watch.

“Sixteen-thirteen,” he dictated the time to the self-writing quill which was still floating along next to him. The quill continued to write, though the heavy rain was washing away the ink the moment it left the quill.

“I’ve just seen something…” Sutler fumbled for a word before settling on “amazing…”

He kept moving closer. The orb was mesmerizing, slowly growing and shrinking, while simultaneously rotating lazily as if hanging on an invisible string.

“It’s… an orb… of some description,” Sutler said to his now quite impotent quill. “It… looks to actually be made, on closer inspection, of shards of… glass, but it’s glowing… and giving off a strange sound…”

Now he was only about five feet from the orb. Even over the rain he could hear a low whirring noise that increased and declined in pitch every time the orb grew and shrank again. The orb looked solid, and yet not so. He puzzled as he noted that the rain did not seem to be connecting with the orb at all. Indeed, it seemed to be passing right through it. However, when he looked at the remnants of the tree stump underneath the orb, the wood on the inside was dry.

The orb was absorbing the rain.

Sutler puzzled at the stump, crouched low for a better look. “I wonder…” he muttered and began to look around.

Pieces of broken, splintered wood were everywhere. The force of the lightning strike had blasted the tree apart. Finally, he found what he was looking for. At once, Sutler was saddened at the sight but satisfied that his hypothesis was correct. It was the tiny, lifeless form of an African bowtruckle. It had apparently been killed in the lightning strike. The tree had been a wand-tree.

“I’ve found the body of an African bowtruckle. Clearly, this was a wand-tree that the lightning hit. Fascinating, I’ve heard of wand-trees being hit by lightning before, but never heard anyone describe an effect such as this…”

Sutler knew that magic and electricity did not work well together. Magic tended to make even the most mundane electronic items fail.

“This must be the effect of such a powerful force of electricity striking a powerful source of magic,” Sutler mused, speaking more to himself now than anything. The quill was now writing in mid-air as the parchment had been obliterated by the rain. “Sort of like the old saying of an unstoppable force meeting and immovable object… it’s as if… as if the lightning has been caught into a ball over the tree… as if the magic has contained it here…”

He decided he needed to test the object. He bent and picked up one of the broken limbs of the tree.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered and tossed the limb towards the orb.

He turned away and covered his head. He didn’t know what he expected to happen, probably an explosion, but it certainly hadn’t been ‘nothing at all.’ And yet, he didn’t hear anything. He turned back. The orb was continuing to pulse lazily. He moved around to the other side of the orb. The branch he’d thrown was gone.

“What the—?” he said, scratching his head through his completely soaked hair.

Sutler picked up another blasted branch. He took a deep breath, and without turning away, tossed this stick at the orb as well. It vanished from sight.

“—devil?” Sutler said, finishing his unfinished sentence.

He puzzled more. Finally, he drew his wand and pointed it at another branch and levitated it. He guided the fallen branch to the orb. He took another breath, and urged the limb forward. He only moved it in halfway this time, and still using his wand drew the limb back.

The limb was completely intact.

“What’s going on…?” Sutler said to himself, bemused.

Where had the other two branches gone? Where was the rain going? How could the branch move into the orb, and yet come back out again?

With nothing for it, Sutler took the branch in his hand. He faced the orb, and slowly extended the branch out towards it.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he kept muttering to himself as he moved the branch closer.

He closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever would happen when the branch touched the orb. But as with his first test, nothing seemed to happen. He was still alive. The only change was an odd tingling sensation in his hands. He opened his eyes again. He was holding the branch into the orb.

“Okay… so I haven’t been electrocuted… score one for me,” he said and began to draw the branch back out.

Then it happened. Something tugged on the branch.

“Hey,” he exclaimed and jumped back.

The branch came back out of the orb and he looked at the end of it. A clump of leaves had been stripped away.

“What in Merlin’s name…?” he said and he stuck the branch back into the orb. His curiosity was completely getting the better of him.

He held the branch there and felt more tugs. Mostly gentle but every now and then a firm one. He began to pull the branch back when something grabbed onto it hard and tugged back. The branch slipped from his hands but not before it knocked him off balance and he stumbled forward.

Sutler shouted out and held up his hands but it was too late. He stumbled right into the orb. He felt a strange lifting sensation before thudding with a gasp to the ground. He grunted and spat out hot, dry sand.

He blinked. Sand? He was in the Serengeti.

Sutler lifted up his head and looked around. Above him was a perfectly clear, azure sky. All around him were rolling yellow dunes of sand.

A gravely lowing sound came from above him and Sutler turned and his eyes went even wider. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. His eyes had to be tricking him.

The creatures were massive. At a glance, they looked to be almost ten-feet long. Their skin was a soft, sandy colour. Their heads were blocky, barely two-feet long, and covered in bony knobs and wide, plate-like cheekbones. Also in the heads were deep set, tiny black eyes. Their backs too were peppered with bony scutes. They were four legged, their legs thick and powerful, sprawled out to their sides. They had tails but these were short, and they wagged back and forth in apparent agitation. The creatures were clearly torn in their appreciation of the branch’s leaves.

Sutler didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was much too mesmerized by what he was looking at. He recognized the creatures, but they couldn’t be real. It was impossible.

They were pareiasaurs. He couldn’t be sure exactly what species. Fossils did not give very strong indications of how the soft tissues looked over top of the bones. They could be scutosaurs, or maybe pareiasuchus.

Just what this meant hit Sutler like a kick in the gut. Which was then followed by a sharp pain in the gut. He jumped up, startling the pareiasaurs who grunted and growled, backing away. He looked down where the sharp pain had come from. There was an angry squealing noise and a small, beaked face was poking out of a hole in the ground. There were little tusks on either side of the beak. The little creature squealed aggressively, moving further out of the hole, taking little defensive snaps at him with its little beak. In spite of himself, Sutler laughed. This little creature was unmistakable, a diictodon.

Another diictodon emerged and both growled at him. They were both only about a foot long. Then he realized that water was pouring into their hole. Sutler turned and looked behind him. The orb was still there, pulsing slowly. Except this time, instead of absorbing a deluge of rain, it was expelling one. The sand underneath it was soaked with water as rain poured out of the bottom of the orb. And there was the two other branches he’d tossed into it.

Sutler suddenly began to laugh. He didn’t know why he found it so funny, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d set out to discover the truth about how nundu hunted erumpents, and instead he’d found something else altogether more amazing.

The orb had not only transported him across space, it had transported him across time. Hundreds of millions of years. Sutler looked around in amazement. He became aware that there were in fact dozens of the pareiasaurs around. Many of them were making their way in his direction. The landscape was parched and mostly desert by the looks of it. Undoubtedly they were coming because they smelled the water.

Sutler laughed more and the nearest pareiasaur bellowed in agitation at him as the diictodons scampered off and down another hole a little ways away.

He had travelled through time.

The orb had taken him so far back that the creatures surrounding him had not even become dinosaurs yet. He was past the Cretaceous, the Jurassic, and Triassic periods. He was in the Permian period; two hundred sixty million years ago.


	2. Back to the Burrow

“Ahh to relive the days of being young and in love with everything you see.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The sun rose on another perfectly ordinary Monday morning on Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. Every house was perfectly sized. Every lawn was perfectly mown. Every hedge was perfectly trimmed. Every car was perfectly clean in every perfectly swept driveway. The postman was humming happily to himself as he walked down the street, turning up each driveway and sliding the mail into each mail slot.

Privet Drive was his favourite stretch of his route. He could get into a perfect rhythm; each house equally spaced, each driveway the same length. It was always quiet this time of the morning, which afforded him time to think and contemplate the world.

He kept humming as he turned up the drive to Number Four. He paused as something crunched underfoot. He looked down and blinked as he saw what looked like an electronic device of some sort, smashed into pieces on the driveway pavement. The postman looked up to see one of the home’s second story windows had been smashed out.

The postman shook his head and drew out the bundle of envelopes for Number Four. He’d just taken off the rubber-band when something else made him pause. One of the envelopes was completely covered, front and back, in stamps. The only exception was an open square inch on the front, into which the address to Number Four had been written.

“Blimey,” the postman said chuckling. “Well someone wanted to be sure this letter got through, didn’t they?” he said to himself studying the letter.

There was no return address that he could see. He didn’t think too much of it, but this time, instead of just slipping the letter through the slot, he actually rang the doorbell. He smiled, though was taken aback as the door was whipped open and the tall, beefy, moustachioed, and very grumpy looking owner of Number Four, Vernon Dursley, loomed over him.

“Yes?” Mr Dursley asked, clearly in a foul mood.

“Oh, beg pardon, sir,” the postman said, lifting his hat an inch in greeting. “Just this letter came for you today,” he said handing over the stamp-coated envelope with a laugh. “Any idea who sent it? Not sure where it came from but I think they overdid it just a bit.”

Mr Dursley took the letter, staring at it with confusion etched across his own face. “No idea,” Mr Dursley growled. Then without another word, Mr Dursley turned and slammed the door shut in the post man’s face.

Inside the kitchen of Number Four, Privet Drive, Harriet Potter jumped at the sound of the slamming door. She had just finished her one-sixth of a grapefruit. Her aunt, Petunia, had cut the grapefruit into four pieces, but had a knack for cutting the fruit in such a way that Harriet’s piece was much smaller than her rotund cousin, Dudley’s.

Harriet had been forced to live with the Dursleys, her only living relatives, since she was only a year old. The Dursleys had always treated Harriet as a burden, for more than just the fact that Harriet had been left on their doorstep as an orphan on Halloween night thirteen years ago.

The Dursleys made it no secret, to Harriet at least, that they thought very poorly of her and ‘her kind.’ By ‘her kind,’ the Dursleys meant that Harriet was a witch. As a result, for most of her life, her bedroom had been the cupboard under the stairs, until the outsized, bearded mountain of a man Hagrid came and told Harriet the truth. The truth that the Dursleys had hidden from Harriet her entire life.

The Dursleys had kept that information from Harriet, hoping that by keeping it secret and keeping her as miserable as possible, they would crush the magic out of her. Fortunately for Harriet, they’d failed, and Harriet was now due to begin her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that September.

Beside her, Harriet heard her cousin Dudley’s stomach growl angrily. He had been most miserable the whole summer so far, ever since he returned from his school with a bad report. It wasn’t the bad marks, or the reports of bullying. The Dursleys always found ways to explain away these accusations. The problem came from the section written by the school nurse.

The Dursleys had always gone above and beyond to make sure that Dudley had everything he wanted. Toys, clothes, electronics, and especially food. While this had gone a long ways to making sure that Dudley was very happy, it also made sure that now, at only fourteen years old, Dudley was almost as wide as he was tall.

Harriet supposed she should feel good that Dudley was finally going to get his weight under control. However, the bullying Dudley had put her through kept her from feeling too glad about it. Indeed, as Dudley now eyed his mother’s piece of grapefruit (he had already stolen and eaten his father’s), Harriet couldn’t help but feel a small bit of smug justice.

After Dudley’s tantrum the night before when his parents caught him smuggling doughnuts into his room, which culminated in Dudley throwing his Super Nintendo out his window, Aunt Petunia had decided that the best way to keep up Dudley’s morale was first to make sure that everyone else in the family was following the diet. In reality, this meant that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were following Dudley’s diet. Harriet on the other hand was following her own version of the diet which consisted of eating even less food than Dudley.

“You,” Uncle Vernon barked, coming back into the kitchen and pointing at Harriet. He didn’t need to point. There was only one person in the world Uncle Vernon was ever referring to when he said ‘you.’ “In the living room. Now,” Uncle Vernon growled.

Harriet raised her eyebrows but got up to follow Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the living room. He shut the door behind her with a loud snap. He crossed over to the newly installed electric fireplace and rounded on Harriet.

“So!” he said, glaring at Harriet.

Harriet raised her eyebrows. “So?” she asked.

Over the last month, Harriet’s attitude had taken a distinct turn. She no longer cowed under Uncle Vernon’s wrath. Likewise, Uncle Vernon’s said wrath had been toned down considerably. This was a result of Professor Sherrod Howe’s informing Uncle Vernon that if Uncle Vernon continued to emotionally abuse Harriet Professor Howe would report him to the authorities, but also because Harriet had informed Uncle Vernon that her godfather, Sirius Black, was a dangerous mass murderer who had escaped from Wizarding prison, and liked to keep in touch with Harriet to make sure she was happy.

Sirius wasn’t a mass murderer, of course. The crimes he’d been sent to Azkaban for had actually been committed by one of his best friends who had turned a traitor to work for Lord Voldemort, the most feared dark wizard of all time. In fact, it was that same traitor, named Peter Pettigrew, better known as Wormtail, who had betrayed Harriet’s own parents to Voldemort, who murdered them before attempting to kill Harriet.

But the Dursleys didn’t need to know that, in Harriet’s opinion. Especially not when the Dursleys’ fear or Sirius in particular meant they now allowed her to keep all of her school things in her room, instead of locking them in the cupboard under the stairs.

Uncle Vernon scowled, but he didn’t dare tell Harriet off. Not anymore. “This just arrived,” he said and waved a piece of purple paper in Harriet’s face. “A letter. About you.”

Harriet blinked. Who would write to the Dursleys about Harriet? Everyone she knew used owls to send letters.

Uncle Vernon’s glower grew as he held up the letter and read.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley,_

_We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harriet about our daughter, Ronnie._

_We’re writing because Harriet has been requested to testify this summer before the Ministry of Magic. It is nothing Harriet is in trouble for, so there is no need to worry about that, but it is rather important that Harriet appear._

_Because of this, we are going to collect Harriet this Friday night. We think this will be simpler for everyone, as Arthur works at the Ministry, and can take Harriet with him, rather than requiring the Ministry come calling at your residence._

_The other reason we’re writing is, as Harriet might have told you, it is the Quidditch World Cup this summer. My husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports._

_The Cup isn’t until the 22 nd of August. Because of this, we would like to have Harriet stay with us for the remainder of the summer. As Britain has not hosted the World Cup final for thirty years, and _normal _tickets are hard enough to come by, let alone tickets of these calibre. We really do hope you say yes, as this is indeed a once in a lifetime opportunity._

_It would be best if Harriet sent the response as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is._

_Hoping to see Harriet soon,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Molly Weasley._

_P.S. I do hope we’ve put enough stamps on._

Uncle Vernon reached into his breast pocket and drew out more paper. “Look at this,” he growled.

Harriet snorted in a laugh at the sight of the stamp-coated envelope. Uncle Vernon scowled and Harriet cleared her throat.

“So um… she did put enough stamps on, then?” Harriet asked, trying to make it sound as though it was a mistake anyone could have made.

“ _The postman noticed!_ ” Uncle Vernon snarled.

_Well, yeah, he’d have to have been an idiot not to_ , Harriet thought.

“Very interested to know where the letter came from. Seemed to think it was _funny_.”

Harriet fought very hard not to roll her eyes. The one thing the Dursleys worried about more than anything was what the neighbours would think if they found out the Dursleys were related in any way to the magical world. This was a ridiculous worry in Harriet’s opinion. The magical world went to great pains to hide itself from the non-magical one. Harriet thought they had a point. After her essay on medieval witch-burnings for Professor Binns, the old History of Magic professor, Harriet was sure that if enough people like the Dursleys found out about the magical world, such practices would not take long to come back into vogue.

“So, can I go then?” Harriet asked, breaking the silence.

Uncle Vernon’s eyes twitched and his teeth ground together. Harriet knew what was going on behind Uncle Vernon’s burning red face. It was the same dilemma that Harriet had given him last year over her Hogsmeade permission form. Letting Harriet go would make Harriet happy. But at the same time Harriet not being in the house would make Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley happy.

Uncle Vernon looked down at the letter again. “Who is this woman?” he asked, disdain written across his face.

“You’ve seen her before,” Harriet said. “My friend Ronnie’s mother. She met us as we got off the train a few weeks ago.”

Uncle Vernon’s scowl grew. “Dumpy sort of woman? With a load of kids with red hair?”

Harriet scowled now. It was rather rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone ‘dumpy,’ with a son like Dudley. In fact, it was rather rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone else ‘dumpy’ period.

“Quidditch?” Uncle Vernon muttered. “What is this rubbish?”

Harriet’s annoyance grew. “It’s a sport played on broom—”

“Alright! Alright!” Uncle Vernon growled, waving a panicky hand to stop Harriet from saying anymore.

Harriet smiled to herself. Uncle Vernon gave the letter one last look. “What does she mean here? The ‘normal’ way?”

“Oh, she means owl post. For wizards that’s what’s normal,” Harriet replied.

Uncle Vernon hissed and stole a glance at the window. Harriet raised an eyebrow. What was Uncle Vernon expecting, the neighbours to be standing there with their ears pressed against the windows?

“How many times have I told you not to mention that unnatural… those… those _abominations_ under my roof!?” Uncle Vernon growled. “You stand here in the house we’ve let you live in, in the clothes Petunia and I—”

“You and Aunt Petunia what?” Harriet snapped. She plucked at the shoulder of her shirt, another that had been given to her by Scott’s cousin, Jess.

“When exactly did you buy this for me? Or anything else you’ve seen me wear this summer?”

“I will not be spoken to like that!” Uncle Vernon roared, clenching his fists.

Harriet ignored this and sighed melodramatically. “Okay, well I guess I can’t go to the World Cup,” Harriet said, slyly.

She wasn’t going to put up with the Dursleys and their attempts to keep her down. Not anymore. Not when she had her perfect out. It was time to call in the big guns.

“Can I go now, then?” Harriet asked. “I need to write a letter to my godfather. And good old ‘Uncle’ Remus. You know how they worry if they don’t hear from me for a while.”

Harriet felt a little pang of guilt at using ex-Professor Lupin’s condition as a werewolf as further leverage against her Aunt and Uncle’s oppression, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

This threat had the desired effect. Uncle Vernon’s face drained of all colour. “Oh, you’re uh… you’re writing them, are you?”

“Of course,” Harriet said. “It’s been a week or so since I wrote them. Don’t want them to think something’s wrong.”

Harriet simply marvelled at the effect these words had on Uncle Vernon. She felt as though she could see the gears working. If Uncle Vernon didn’t let Harriet go, she would write to Sirius and Remus and tell them she was being mistreated. If he didn’t let her write them, they would know that Harriet was being mistreated.

“Well, uh, alright then. Yes. You can go to this ruddy, this, this stupid, this _World Cup_ thing. Write these Weasleys and tell them we’ll expect them Friday night.”

“Awwwww thank you Uncle Vernon,” Harriet said, in her most sickly sweet voice and actually popped up on tip-toe to kiss him on the cheek before turning and skipping from the room.

She met Dudley crouched at the keyhole. He had clearly been listening in, hoping to hear Uncle Vernon telling Harriet off.

“That was a wonderful breakfast, wasn’t it?” Harriet said, rubbing her stomach. “I just feel so full, don’t you?”

She skipped past him, enjoying the dumbstruck look on his face and headed up the stairs to her room. Harriet stepped inside and smiled even more. Hedwig was back after her night’s hunting.

“Hiya Hed-OW!”

Harriet was cut off as something small and fluffy collided with the side of her head. She rubbed her head and watched as a small, fluffy ball flitted around the room like a speeding grey Snitch. It was an owl, and a tiny owl at that. If Harriet wasn’t mistaken, it was the owl that Sirius had given to Ronnie as the end of last term as compensation for ‘losing’ Scabbers.

Harriet looked down and saw the owl had dropped a letter at her feet. Hedwig hissed angrily at the overly excited owl as it passed too near for Hedwig’s comfort.

Harriet opened the letter and read.

 

_Harriet!_

_Dad got the tickets!_

_WERE GONNA BE IN THE TOP BOX!_

_Don’t know who the teams are going to be yet but Fred and George say Bulgaria’s a cert to make it but Charlie says Ireland. Charlie’s home for the summer for work, but he won’t tell me what. Anyway Mum and Dad wrote to ask if you could stay the whole summer cuz you, Dora, Hermione and me all gotta go testify about what happened in the Shrieking Shack. I’m crazy nervous, I don’t know about you. What if they don’t believe us cuz we’re kids and all?_

_Anyway, send back your reply with Widgie. I don’t know how fast Muggle post is, so I thought I’d send this with Piggers anyway. Anyway, if the muggles say yes, send your reply back with Piggy pronto, and we’ll come get you Friday night. If they say no, write back and we’ll come get you Friday night anyway. We mostly just sent the letter to be polite._

_See you Friday!_

_Ronnie_

 

Harriet snorted looking up at the owl which was still rocketing around the room.

“…Okay… I’m guessing those are all nicknames… just what did Ronnie name you?” Harriet asked in amusement.

The little owl settled down on Hedwig’s cage. Hedwig’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. Harriet hurried over to collect the owl off the cage before Hedwig decided to have a second dinner.

Harriet brought the owl over to her desk, grabbing up her ink and quill and wrote a short reply.

 

_Ronnie,_

_It’s totally cool with the Dursleys. See you Friday. Can’t wait! I’m really nervous about Sirius too. I try not to think about it, but it’s not easy. See you Friday!_

_Harriet_

 

Harriet put the letter into an envelope and tied it to the little owl’s leg. The owl took off at once and Harriet shook her head watching it go. Hedwig hooted from the bed next to her. Harriet smiled and rolled her eyes before reaching over to gently rub the back of Hedwig’s head.

“No, Hedwig. No one could ever be a better post owl than you.”

Hedwig hooted in a dignified way, moving her head around to help Harriet get the good spots.

Harriet grinned and knelt down next to her bed. Even after the ever-so-filling breakfast of one sixth of a grapefruit, Harriet was quite famished. This was where her tasty little secret stash came in handy. The moment Harriet heard that she was supposed to spend the entire summer eating almost nothing but carrot sticks on account of Dudley’s diet, she had sent Hedwig with letters to all of her friends for help. Harriet wasn’t disappointed.

Hedwig returned with a box of sugar-free snacks from Hermione Granger and her parents (who were dentists). The Weasleys, Harriet’s favourite family in the world, had sent their poor, aged owl Errol with a massive home-made fruitcake and pasties. Errol had been so worn out from this particular mission that it took him an entire week to recover. Scott McIntyre and his family had sent Harriet some delicious candies and a tray of cupcakes, both of which Harriet was sure had been hand-made by Dobby, their house-elf.

Dora Flamel sent a box of baklava that Harriet had to be careful when eating, as they were so delicious they were difficult for Harriet to eat without moaning. Kieran O’Brien meanwhile sent a box of treacle tarts. These Harriet was saving for last. While treacle was her favourite, it had less to do with that, and more to do with the fact that Kieran said he made them himself. The only other item Harriet hadn’t touched came from Hagrid. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel grateful to Hagrid for helping out, but she had tried Hagrid’s rock cakes before, and knew better than to risk damaging her teeth.

Harriet took one of the baklava and flopped down on the bed next to Hedwig. Hedwig hooted indignantly and hopped up onto the headboard. Harriet giggled.

“Sorry,” she moaned taking a bite of the delicious, honey-soaked pastry. “I know it’s got nothing on mice and frogs, but if you were a human, you’d understand.”

Hedwig hooted softly and leaned down to preen some of Harriet’s hair. Harriet finished the baklava and sighed contentedly, staring at her ceiling as Hedwig kept attempting to deal with the mess of Harriet’s hair on the pillow.

As the contentment of the treat and the excitement about going to stay with the Weasleys and then the World Cup faded, Harriet suddenly felt the worry start to set in. She was really worried about Sirius. In fact, she’d had more than one sleepless night about it this summer. While she was glad that Sirius was not in Azkaban, the fact was that if his trial did not go properly, he would go right back. Or worse, the Ministry might choose to execute him via the Dementor’s Kiss, a fate worse than death. Instead of killing their victims, the Dementors would clamp their jaws over their victims’ mouths and suck out their souls. Everything that made a person who they were gone in an instant, leaving behind a living, breathing body incapable of thinking or doing anything besides exist.

Then again, Harriet wasn’t sure that Sirius not turning himself in would be any less stressful. If he was still on the run, the dementors would still be out looking for him, and would still be subject to their kiss if they caught him. Yet, if he was on the run, Harriet could at least have written to him. Fortunately, she did have one voice of comfort: Daniel.

Daniel had sent her letters every other day so far that summer. Words of comfort about Sirius’ impending trial, mostly. Reassuring Harriet that the fact he voluntarily turned himself in would go a long way to helping change people’s minds. Reminding her that his own testimony would be a big help. Outside of that, he would always ask how she was doing, if she was doing anything fun to keep her mind off her problems, urging her to get out of the house and try to make some friends. Harriet didn’t really have the heart to tell Daniel that this was an unlikely prospect, as most of the kids in the neighbourhood were still too afraid of Dudley to go anywhere near “that Potter girl.”

What made the letters even better was hearing from Remus as well, who was now living with Daniel in his shop. Remus had been most insistent in the letters that Harriet should call him Remus from now on as he was no longer a teacher and so should not be called professor, and going by surnames was too formal. Harriet would sometimes still call him ‘Professor Lupin’ though, just to read his exasperated responses. Even if she couldn’t hear from Sirius, having those two in her life had helped her more than even the treats when it came to surviving this summer.

At that moment, there was a clattering of sharp talons on the windowsill. Harriet looked over and beamed. Sure enough, it was Daniel’s eagle-owl, Axl. She sat up quickly, taking the letter. Axl hooted, and Hedwig allowed him to fly over and drink from her water before it swooped back out of the window. Harriet gave Hedwig a raised eyebrow as Hedwig watched Daniel’s owl fly off. Hedwig ruffled up her feathers and hooted indignantly, hopping over onto the back of Harriet’s desk chair and turning her back on Harriet.

Harriet rolled her eyes but giggled again, opened Daniel’s letter, and read.

## * * * *

Harriet sighed. It was Friday, and the Weasleys were almost forty-five minutes late. Harriet was sitting on the bottom step at the foot of the stairs, staring at the front door and waiting. The Dursleys meanwhile were still in the living room, grumbling to each other about the delay.

“No consideration, at all,” Aunt Petunia sniffed.

“We might have had an engagement,” Uncle Vernon growled.

“They better not think they’ll be invited to dinner if they’re late.”

“Certainly not,” Uncle Vernon snapped and banged a fist on the arm of his chair. “They’ll take the girl and go. No hanging ar-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Harriet jumped as Uncle Vernon cried out. She heard the Dursleys scrambling around and Dudley came hobbling out of the room as fast as his thick legs would carry him. Harriet on the other hand ran into the room.

At first, Harriet thought Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were staring at the electric fireplace. Then she heard the pounding on the wall from behind it. Harriet furrowed her brow when she suddenly remembered what was behind the new fireplace and burst out laughing.

“What is this?!” Uncle Vernon asked, glowering at Harriet and pointing at the wall. “What’s going on?!”

“Ouch! No, Fred, you’ll have to go back, there’s no way—OUCH! George! There’s no room! You’ll have to go back and tell Ronnie—”

“Well we came to the right place, maybe Harriet can hear us?”

There was more hammering from the other side of the wall.

“Harriet? Hey Harriet, can you hear us?”

Harriet doubled over, she was laughing so hard. The old fireplace had been boarded over and the new electric coal fireplace installed in front of it.

“What the devil is happening?!” Uncle Vernon bellowed.

“They’ve tried to get here by floo powder,” Harriet said. “Hold on. Mister Weasley? Fred? George? It’s Harriet, I can hear you.”

The pounding stopped and she heard Mr Weasley shush the others.

“Mister Weasley? It’s Harriet. You can’t get through that way, the fireplace has been blocked up.”

“Damn,” Mr Weasley said, sounding irritable. “What on earth did they block up the fireplace for?”

“They got an electric fireplace instead.”

“Really? Eklectic you say? With a plug? Oh goodness, I must see that. Now, let me just think how-Ack! Ronnie!”

“What’s going on,” Harriet heard Ronnie now ask. “Something go wrong?”

“My goodness, you’re right, Ronnie!” Fred said, his voice thick with irony.

“How could we have not seen it before?” George said, though his voice was muffled, as though his face was smooshed up against the wall.

“Now, now, you three,” Mr Weasley said. “Yes… only way I’m afraid. Uh, stand back, Harriet!”

Harriet backed up quickly. Uncle Vernon however charged forward.

“Wait a moment!” he bellowed. “What are you going to—”

BANG!

The wall exploded. Harriet covered her head as debris went flying everywhere. She opened her eyes again and took in the scene. Drywall dust filled the air. The electric fireplace had been blown across the room. Debris littered the room; Aunt Petunia’s decorations and knickknacks scattered about and smashed. Aunt Petunia herself had toppled backwards over the coffee table.

Meanwhile, where the electric fireplace had been, now stood Harriet’s best friend Ronnie, her father, Arthur, and her twin brothers, Fred and George. The Weasleys normally bright red hair now looked grey from the falling dust.

“That’s better,” Mr Weasley said, stepping into the room and brushing dust off his bright-green, though slightly frayed, robes.

Harriet was doing her best not to laugh. She didn’t know how she’d expected the Weasleys to arrive, but it certainly hadn’t been via the Dursleys boarded up fireplace. Mr Weasley cleaned his glasses and smiled at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

“Ah, you must be Harriet’s aunt and uncle!” he said cheerfully, holding out a hand to Uncle Vernon.

Uncle Vernon responded however by backing away several paces and pulling Aunt Petunia’s prostrate form further away from Mr Weasley. Uncle Vernon glanced in enraged disbelief at the fireplace and back again. Mr Weasley ran a hand over his balding head looking sheepish.

“Oh, yes… sorry about that… all my fault. It just never occurred to me that we wouldn’t be able to get through on the other side. Didn’t know there were muggle houses without properly working fireplaces. Every Wizarding home has one. Of course, muggle houses aren’t supposed to be hooked up to the Floo Network anyway, strictly speaking. I had to pull a few strings myself with a useful contact of mine in the Floo Network to hook yours up for just the afternoon so we could collect Harriet. Not to worry though, I’ll be able to put it right back the way it was again in a jiffy. I’ll just make a fire to send the kids back and then I can repair it before I disapparate.”

For all the explaining Mr Weasley was trying to do, he might as well have been speaking Greek. Uncle Vernon clearly had no idea what anything Mr Weasley had just said meant.

“Ah, hello Harriet,” Mr Weasley said smiling at her. “Got your trunk ready?”

“Yes, Mister Weasley,” Harriet said, beaming. “It’s upstairs.”

“We’ll get it,” Fred said, eagerly.

He hurried past Harriet into the hallway with the staircase. George rolled his eyes but smiled as he followed, clearly not in as big a hurry as Fred was. Harriet wondered if Fred was anxious to get a look at Dudley.

Meanwhile, a deathly silence had fallen on the living room. Mr Weasley swung his arms a bit, awkwardly, and looked around the room.

“Very, um, very nice place, you’ve got,” Mr Weasley said.

As the living room, which was usually spotless from Aunt Petunia’s strict cleaning regimen, was now covered in dust and destroyed belongings, this didn’t exactly come across as a compliment to the Dursleys.

Still trying to break the silence, Mr Weasley now turned his attention on the television. “Ah, it runs of ecclestoncity, does it? Ah yes, there’s the plug. You know I collect plugs? Fascinating hobby, though my wife thinks I’m mad.”

It was clear to Harriet that this was one issue on which Mrs Weasley and the Dursleys would wholeheartedly agree. At that moment Dudley hustled into the room. Harriet heard the thumping of her trunk on the stairs as Fred and George returned. Undoubtedly their noise had frightened Dudley once more.

Dudley edged along the wall towards his parents. He attempted to hide behind them, but even Uncle Vernon was nowhere near enough to hide Dudley’s form. Dudley whimpered loudly as Fred and George came into the room. However, stealing a glance at Ronnie and taking in the look on her face, Harriet was sure that Fred and George were the least of Dudley’s troubles.

“Ah, and this is your cousin, is it?” Mr Weasley asked.

“Yep, that’s Dudley,” Harriet replied.

Dudley was still cowering behind his parents, clutching his backside in terror. Mr Weasley looked concerned.

“Uh, are you having a good holiday, Dudley?” Mr Weasley asked.

Dudley’s only response was a tiny whimper.

Fred and George returned to the room, Harriet’s trunk between them, with Hedwig’s cage set on top. Fred and George caught sight of Dudley their faces both turned into wolfish, wicked grins. Fred spotted Harriet watching them and gave her a tiny wink.

“Ah, there you two are,” Mr Weasley said and drew his wand.

The Dursleys drew back further, backing into the wall at the sight of the wand. Mr Weasley seemed not to notice as he pointed his wand at the fireplace in the exploded wall.

“ _Incendio_ ,” Mr Weasley said and at once a fire sprang to life in the fireplace, blazing as though it had been burning for hours.

Mr Weasley took a draw-string pouch from his pocket and opened it. He took a pinch of the powder inside it and threw it into the flames. The flames turned an emerald green at once and roared even higher. Behind her, Aunt Petunia gave a stifled gasp.

“Right, off you go then, George,” Mr Weasley said.

“Sure thing,” George said and stepped up to the hearth, said clearly “the Burrow!” and stepped into the flames. Aunt Petunia gasped once more as the flames made a whooshing noise and George vanished from view.

“Now you, Fred,” Mr Weasley said.

“Got it,” Fred said.

He grunted as he bent down to tip Harriet’s trunk onto its side so he could carry it more easily into the fire. Ronnie moved over to help and as they stood back up with the trunk, Harriet saw Fred slip something into Ronnie’s hand. He and Ronnie both gave Harriet little smirks and Fred stepped up to the flames with the trunk, said “The Burrow!” and vanished after George.

“And you, Ronnie,” Mr Weasley said.

Ronnie grinned. “See you!” she said and waved to the Dursleys. At that moment she dropped the item Fred had passed her. It was a bag of sweets which burst open on the floor and scattered gaily wrapped toffees everywhere.

“Oh no,” Ronnie said and she and Harriet knelt picking them up.

Harriet held one up to inspect it but Ronnie quickly snatched it away, gave Harriet a wink, and put it back in the bag. Harriet was perplexed but Ronnie didn’t give her time to ask before she stood up.

“Think that’s got them all,” Ronnie said pocketing the bag. She too stepped up to the fire, said “The Burrow!” and vanished.

Harriet looked at the Dursleys.

“Well, umm… bye then,” she said and turned to approach the fireplace.

However, Mr Weasley held out a hand to stop her. He was staring at the Dursleys in amazement. “Harriet’s just said goodbye to you… didn’t you hear her?”

“It’s fine,” Harriet said, wanting to leave as quickly as possible. “I don’t care, nor do they.”

But Mr Weasley didn’t budge. “You aren’t going to see your niece until next summer. Surely you’re going to say goodbye?”

Uncle Vernon’s face went very red, very quickly. Apparently he did not relish the idea of being lectured on manners by a man who had just blown a hole in his wall. However, his eyes darted to Mr Weasley’s wand and he decided against speaking out.

“Goodbye then,” Uncle Vernon said, his voice full of resentment.

Harriet nodded and turned to put her foot into the flames. They felt like a jet of warm air being blown over her. She was stopped however by a horrible gagging sound and Aunt Petunia’s scream. She looked back and saw that Dudley had left the relative safety of his parents’ and was kneeling beside the toppled coffee table. He was gagging, his eyes wide with shock and terror, tugging on what looked like a foot-long, purple slug protruding from his mouth. After a head-shake, Harriet realized it was not a slug, but Dudley’s own tongue. Harriet glanced down and saw one of the bright toffee wrappers on the floor.

Aunt Petunia screamed and threw herself upon Dudley. She seized the tongue and tugged hard on it. Predictably, Dudley cried out, shaking his head and tried to tug his tongue back from Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon, meanwhile, was bellowing like an angry bull. Mr Weasley was shouting trying to make himself heard over the din.

“Now don’t panic! There’s no need to panic! I can put it right in an instant!” Mr Weasley shouted and moved closer to Dudley, holding out his wand.

This only worked to make Aunt Petunia scream even louder and throw herself on top of Dudley to shield him. Dudley’s eyes went even wider as he tried to push her off him and his oversized tongue flopped onto his face. If Harriet wasn’t mistaken, the tongue had grown even larger.

“Now really!” Mr Weasley said indignantly. “I am trying to help! It’s the simplest of spells to set it right. My sons are real practical jokers I’m afraid, though I’ll be having words with my daughter too, since she has been getting a little too involved in their antics this summer for Molly’s comfort. Anyway, it looks like just a simple Engorgement Charm. Please if you’ll just step aside I can correct—”

The Dursleys however panicked even more. Aunt Petunia resumed tugging on Dudley’s tongue which was closing on two feet long now. Dudley was spluttering and writhing, being suffocated by his mother’s weight and his tongue. Uncle Vernon on the other hand grabbed a nearby fallen ornament and flung it at Mr Weasley. Fortunately, Mr Weasley saw it coming and managed to duck out of the way in time.

“Now see here!” Mr Weasley shouted. He was starting to lose his temper.

Uncle Vernon’s bellow increased in volume from angry bull to apoplectic hippo and grabbed up a nearby foot-stool instead.

“Go Harriet!” Mr Weasley called. “I’ll sort this out! Go!”

Harriet was too mesmerized by the spectacle to move, but was quickly brought to her senses by the foot-stool smashing into the wall next to her head. She stepped into the flames and as she did so shouted “The Burrow!”

As she was whipped out of sight, Harriet got one last fleeting glimpse of Number Four’s living room. Mr Weasley blasted another ornament out of Uncle Vernon’s hand with his wand. Dudley just managed to get his tongue out of Aunt Petunia’s grasp when the green flames whipped her away to The Burrow.

Harriet kept her elbows tucked tight to her sides and closed her eyes. Finally she started to slow down and felt her feet hit cement. She only stumbled a couple feet and Fred caught her.

“Someday I’ll get used to that,” Harriet said.

“Shame,” Fred said. “I’m already used to this.”

There was something odd in the tone of his voice but Harriet didn’t get to ask before Ronnie spoke up. “Did he eat it?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said, getting back to her feet and dusting off her blouse. “What the hell was that?”

“Ton-Tongue Toffee!” George said, beaming in pride. “That was its inaugural test run.”

A wave of laughter broke out in the little kitchen. Ronnie and George were still standing nearby, while Ginny, Hermione, and Marcus were sitting around the kitchen table with another red-haired man who Harriet didn’t recognize at first, until she remembered the photograph of the Weasleys in Egypt and realized this must be Charlie, the brother who worked with dragons in Romania.

He was built more like the twins, stockier in form than Mr Weasley and Ronnie. His face was rounder and had a very good natured smile, with twinkling blue eyes and so many freckles that he almost looked tan. He rose and held out a hand to Harriet and she saw that while his arms were covered in shiny burn marks here and there, they were also very muscly. Harriet’s hand felt tiny in his as she shook and she felt that familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach come rushing back as she met his gaze.

“Hiya, Harriet. Hear you’re the one who managed to take Gryffindor back to glory on the pitch,” he said smiling.

Harriet felt herself flush as bright as Charlie’s freckles. She’d forgotten that Charlie had been the Seeker before her, and was almost as legendary a Seeker as her own father had been.

“So, what _exactly_ does a _Ton-Tongue Toffee_ do?” Marcus asked, sounding disapproving.

Harriet blinked coming back to reality.

“Engorges the tongue a bit,” Fred said casually.

“Define a bit…” Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed.

At that moment, there was a faint popping noise and Mr Weasley appeared standing right between Fred and George. He looked livid.

“THAT WASN’T FUNNY, BOYS!” Mr Weasley bellowed.

Harriet thought even Uncle Vernon would have appreciated how angry Mr Weasley could get.

“Why what on earth do you mean, Father?” Fred asked.

“You know _exactly_ what I mean!” Mr Weasley snapped. “That bag of sweets you passed Ronnie! I should have stopped you then but I didn’t want to cause a scene. But after _that_ nonsense—”

“How big did his tongue get?” George asked, apparently more interested in how the test went than avoiding trouble.

“It was four foot long by the time they let me shrink it!” Mr Weasley then rounded on Ronnie. “And I told you about not getting involved in your brothers’ antics! My own sons and eldest daughter, undermining wizard-Muggle relations! I’ve worked my _whole life_ —”

“It had nothing to do with him being a Muggle!” Ronnie retorted. “It was because he’s a great bullying arse!”

“You watch your language, young lady!” Mr Weasley barked.

“But he is!” Harriet said trying to defend her friend.

“That’s not the point!” Mr Weasley said, though his anger abated a little as he clearly did not want to yell at Harriet. He rounded on Fred and George again instead. “You two just wait until I tell your mother!”

“Tell me what?”

Mrs Weasley had arrived. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion as she glanced from Mr Weasley to the twins. Mr Weasley ran a hand over his bald-spot again, now looking sheepish himself. Clearly he had not intended to actually tell Mrs Weasley.

“Tell me what, Arthur?” Mrs Weasley pressed.

“Uh it’s… it’s nothing, Molly,” Mr Weasley said. “Fred and George, er… well I’ve had words with them, so there’s—”

“What have they done this time?” Mrs Weasley asked. “If it’s more of that rubbish with _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_ —”

“Uh, why don’t we go find Dora?” Hermione asked.

“Uh yeah, good idea,” Ginny said.

Marcus, Ronnie, and Hermione rose and the group started moving towards the door.

“Uh, we’ll come too,” Fred said.

“ _You’ll stay where you are_!” Mrs Weasley snarled.

Harriet and the others edged out of the kitchen and into the hallway, heading towards the back door to the garden.

“Okay, so what exactly are _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_?” Harriet asked once they were out of earshot.

Ginny and Ronnie both laughed, though Hermione and Marcus didn’t.

“It’s a sort of joke shop they’re thinking of starting up,” Ginny explained. All sorts of prank stuff and tricks. It’s ruddy brilliant!”

“We never knew they were actually inventing things,” Ronnie said. “We thought they just liked the noise and all that. But anyway, Mum found their order forms and went berserk. Cuz well, a lot of the stuff it turns out is a bit dangerous.”

“Like engorging a tongue?” Marcus grumbled. “I know Dudley’s a git, but he could have choked to death!”

“I agree,” Hermione said, sniffing in disapproval.

“Yeah, well Dad sorted it out anyway,” Ronnie said dismissively. “Anyway, she burnt all the order forms and threw out all their work. She was already pretty furious with them anyway, they didn’t get very many O.W.L.s.”

They exited into the garden. As they did, they heard Mrs Weasley’s raised voice begin shouting. Apparently Mr Weasley had caved. A second later, Charlie slipped out the door behind them.

“Right,” he said awkwardly. “Don’t think I was needed for that either.”

Harriet giggled automatically, and much louder than she normally did. Her friends all gave her a funny look and she looked around looking for something else to talk about.

“Uh, so Dora’s here already?” she asked.

“Yeah, got here about an hour before you did,” Ronnie said. “She’s probably still helping Crookshanks chase gnomes.”

At that moment, Dora appeared around the corner. She looked breathless but had a wide smile on her face and was covered in dirt.

“Gnomes!” she said, breathing heavily. “Gnomes are fun! I never knew!”

Without another word she darted away, cackling hysterically.

“She… didn’t get out much as a kid, did she?” Charlie asked.

“Probably not,” Ronnie said. She rolled her eyes but her smile was soft. “She’s a Flamel, you know, like Nicolas Flamel?”

“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Charlie said. He nudged Ronnie with his elbow. “Good _friend_ to have then, eh?”

“Oh shut up,” Ronnie snapped and Charlie laughed.

Harriet rolled her eyes again but paused looking at Marcus. “Oh,” she said. “You got glasses?”

Marcus flushed a little as he took the glasses off to look at them. “Well, yeah, kind of uh, always had them,” he said. “Just never liked wearing them much cuz I never wanted to break them during sports or helping dad in the garden.”

“Yes, but not getting terrible headaches by wearing them _regularly_ is a rather nice trade-off, isn’t it?” Hermione said in a reprimand.

“Yeah, yeah, okay-okay,” Marcus said, putting the glasses back on.

“Can you lot have your little chit-chat somewhere else?” called a voice from above them. “Some people are trying to work.”

Harriet looked up to see Percy’s head sticking out of his bedroom window, scowling down at them.

“Yeah, sorry Perce,” Charlie said.

Charlie gave Harriet an ever-suffering look which gave her more butterflies and they moved off to the big table in the garden. As they sat, the back door opened again and Kieran and Scott stepped out.

“Hey, there they are,” Marcus called and waved to them.

The two boys smiled and made their way over.

“Hey you lot,” Scott said, sitting between Ronnie and Hermione.

“So, Fred and George up to the usual?” Kieran asked, grunting as he swung his bad leg over the bench and sat between Harriet and Ginny.

“More or less,” Charlie chuckled and held out a hand to the boys, making introductions.

Dora finally came over and squeezed in between Kieran and Harriet. She smiled around at everyone obliviously but Harriet noticed it. Hermione, Scott, and Marcus were both giving her a disapproving look for squeezing in where she did, as there was room elsewhere at the table. Though to her surprise, Ronnie, who had never exactly had the best grasp of tact, was giving Dora a very dirty look indeed.

“So, how’s your owl, Ronnie?” Kieran asked smiling. Apparently he was just as oblivious as well.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Ronnie said smiling.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna ask about that,” Harriet asked. “After your letter. What exactly did you name him, you called him like three different names in the letter?”

Ginny laughed. “His name’s Pigwidgeon.”

“Isn’t that the cutest name?” Dora said.

Ronnie flushed. “Well, yeah, I mean Ginny named him, but…”

“Ohhhhhh,” Harriet said.

“So you got our food parcels okay then, Harriet?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yeah, they were great,” Harriet said.

Charlie smiled and got up. “Well, I’ll let you lot chat. Mum’ll be over the worst of it by now,” he said and headed back to the house.

Harriet couldn’t help but watch him go, taking in the broad shoulders, moving down to the trimmer waist and especially the well fitted pair of blue-jeans.

“You’re going to leave eye-ball marks on your lenses you know?”

Harriet jumped to see everyone looking at her. Hermione, Ginny, Scott and Marcus were looking very amused. Next to her, Dora and Kieran however seemed to not have noticed. Harriet flushed even redder.

“Well, he is, you know, nice,” Harriet said.

“Uh-huh,” Ronnie said. “That wasn’t my brother’s personality you were ogling.”

Everyone around the table broke out laughing. Ronnie seemed in a much better mood all the sudden. Only Dora didn’t laugh. Ginny laughed briefly but then leaned across both Kieran and Dora to give Harriet a playful swat on the shoulder.

“Hey, hands off my brothers. I gotta be all protective as the sister and stuff, you know.”

Everyone laughed even louder. Even Dora this time.

“Hey, that’d make Harriet part of the family though,” Ronnie said.

“Oh yeah,” Ginny said. “Good point! Though you know Fred’s a bit—”

“Okay can we all _not_ talk about trying to set me up with people?” Harriet interjected, starting to feel a little ganged up on.

“Okay, okay,” Scott said, though he was still chuckling.

“Dinner’s served,” Mrs Weasley’s voice came from the doorway.

Out she came with Mr Weasley, Charlie, and Percy in tow, many serving trays of food floating along behind them. At the rear were Fred and George, looking disgruntled carrying stacks of plates and bundles of silverware. Mr Weasley set down the trays of food he was levitating and summoned another table which floated over to join the other.

“There we are,” he said in a forced cheerful voice. “Much better for all of us.”

With everyone together, talk thankfully moved on to other subjects. Charlie, Fred, George, Marcus, and Dora all got into a discussion about what teams were likely to make it to the cup final. Others talked about what they’d done over the summer so far. As the talk went on, Harriet noted there was one topic in particular that everyone seemed to be avoiding: Sirius’ trial. She didn’t particularly want to talk about it, but somehow it felt wrong of her to pretend it wasn’t happening.

“So, what day are we going to have to go to the Ministry?” Harriet asked.

An awkward silence passed over the table. Mr and Mrs Weasley exchanged a glance.

“On Wednesday, Harriet dear,” Mrs Weasley said. “But we don’t want you worrying on that. The goal of having you all together here is to have fun.”

Mrs Weasley resumed eating. Harriet took this to mean the topic was now closed. Fred leaned over from across the table as Mr Weasley and Percy began to get into a pointed discussion about someone who’d gone missing.

“Mum doesn’t believe it. About Sirius I mean,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Yeah,” Ronnie agreed, giving her mother a disapproving look. “I mean I can see why she wouldn’t believe you two, but she usually listens to things when either Ginny or me tell her.”

Fred rolled his eyes.

“Ginny or _I_ ,” Dora corrected.

Ronnie threw a little kick at her under the table but Dora pulled her feet back in time to dodge. Ronnie stuck her tongue out at Dora who sniggered victoriously. George meanwhile was writing something.

“Letter to Erica?” she asked.

George smiled and to Harriet’s surprise he didn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed.

“Of course,” he said, smiling. “Gotta keep in touch, her being at Hogwarts and all. Gotta give her at least a hint of testosterone, what with all the girls she’s stuck there with.”

“Oh gee, a world with no boys, that would be just _awful_ ,” Ronnie teased.

George discretely threw a piece of potato at her. Everyone else around them laughed, even Harriet.

“Well, it’s not like there’s no boys at all,” Scott said.

“Yeah, there’s Ben,” Kieran agreed.

“Didn’t he graduate?” Dora asked.

“No, he’s got one more year,” Marcus said.

“Well, maybe we can talk him into taking up Wood’s old Keeper position for a year,” Fred suggested.

“He would make a good one I think,” Harriet agreed. “Though he’s never seemed that interested.”

“Well, a girl keeper wouldn’t hurt,” Ronnie said casually.

Fred rolled his eyes again. “Oy, the team already has four girls out of seven players. The balance is already in your favour.”

“Well, I think it would be a nice change,” Dora joined in. “I mean look at _my_ house’s stupid team… they haven’t had a girl on the team since Flint took over.”

Ronnie flushed. It wasn’t often Dora and Ronnie said anything to each other that wasn’t a teasing barb. However, at that moment, Dora changed tact at once.

“Although seriously, what is your problem with boys?” she asked. “I mean, you talk about them a lot, but…”

Ronnie shrugged becoming very interested in her piece of chicken. “Nothing. I’m just… very selective,” she said.

“Riiiiiight,” Fred said.

“So, this is going to be a strange question, but how exactly _did_ you manage to enchant the toffee so that it put the Engorgement Charm on someone else, rather than just engorging the toffee itself?” Hermione asked the twins.

Harriet didn’t know what made her think so, but she had a suspicion that Hermione had changed the subject on purpose.

“Oh, well it’s actually not that hard, you see the trick is—”

Harriet was distracted again by Charlie, who moved over to sit next to her instead, and instantly all other thoughts and worries vanished.

“So, Ronnie says you have a real _Firebolt_ eh?” he asked her.

“Oh-oh, yeah,” Harriet said. “Serial number seven.”

Charlie whistled. “First production batch. How’d you get your hands on that?”

Harriet flushed. “Uh, Sirius, my godfather. He gave it to me to make up for all the Christmases and birthdays he’s missed.”

Charlie nodded and his smile didn’t falter. Apparently he did not share Mrs Weasley’s reservations about Sirius’ innocence. However, now that Harriet had reminded herself of the trial again, she felt the tightness in her stomach return. Charlie seemed to notice.

“Don’t waste your time worrying about it, kiddo,” he said in an undertone. “The trial will be overseen by Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. If Dumbledore already believes he’s innocent, then he’s a cert to get off. And Amelia Bones is a good egg, too. Don’t even worry about giving your testimony, right? Just go in, tell your story, be confident about it, and that’s that.”

“You think?” Harriet asked, trying to keep the plea out of her voice.

“Totally,” Charlie said.

“So, you believe he’s innocent too?” Harriet asked.

Charlie smiled. “Of course. I trust Ronnie—”

Harriet saw Ronnie flush once more and smile with a bit of pride.

“—I trust you. I trust Dumbledore. I trust Howe. And I trust your dad.”

Harriet blinked. “You knew my dad?” she asked, though finding this unlikely. Charlie couldn’t have been more than a few years old when Harriet’s parents died.

Charlie chuckled. “Well no, not exactly. But when you spend six years as a Seeker living in his shadow, you learn a lot about a bloke. If Sirius Black was his best friend, then I’ll believe he was innocent.”

Harriet smiled more and Charlie ruffled her hair. She felt a little awkward, realizing his hand was so large it covered almost all of the top of her head.

“So buck up, kiddo, you’re in for a blast of a summer,’ Charlie said.

“Okay,” Harriet said, feeling a great weight off her shoulders.

Charlie smiled wider and turned the conversation back to Quidditch. “So, rumour has it you caught the Snitch in under a minute in your second match?”

Harriet went scarlet.


	3. Testimony

“In any given situation in your life, all you can ever hope to give is your best, whatever that best is.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Wednesday came with indecent speed. Not that Harriet wasn’t having fun. Indeed, it was all the fun that helped make the time pass so quickly. Harriet, Hermione, and Dora were all camped out on cots in Ronnie’s room. The boys were sleeping with Fred and George in their room.

As Bill and Charlie’s old rooms had been turned into storage, Charlie was sleeping out in a tent in the back garden. Harriet felt bad about this, but Ronnie assured her that Charlie practically lived in a tent while he worked in Romania, and Harriet felt a little better. In fact, it made Harriet puzzle to herself over how that realization took the situation right out of pity and straight into romance.

Ronnie had started her summer football league once more, so on Saturday afternoon they went to watch her local match in town. Harriet was glad to see Luna Lovegood and her father again. She had not seen much of Luna since her last summer at the Burrow. Harriet was most amused to see Dora get so into the game, hopping up and down and cheering every time Ronnie stopped a goal.

“Well, it’s not Quidditch, but I can see the appeal,” Dora said taking her seat.

Everyone but Harriet rolled their eyes at her. Apparently they all realized something Harriet didn’t, but she was too caught up in the game to ask.

Sunday afternoon was part Quidditch practice, part flying lessons. Harriet, Dora, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny, being the most experienced flyers, were helping Hermione, Marcus, and Ronnie. Kieran kept insisting he couldn’t risk hurting his leg, but Harriet couldn’t help but notice the slight look of longing on his face as he watched them. Scott, in solidarity with his friend, opted to sit it out with him instead of joining in.

Harriet had a great deal of fun flying with Charlie. He hadn’t played Quidditch in a while, having graduated the year before Harriet went to Hogwarts, but he had still played longer than Harriet and so had quite a few good manoeuvres to teach her. However, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that even Charlie would pause every now and then and look down at Kieran and Scott, rubbing his chin.

Monday it started to rain so they all stayed inside. Fortunately, Percy had to work, and so wasn’t around to yell at them for “making a racket.” Unfortunately, from Harriet’s perspective, Charlie also had work to do, and so was gone all day as well.

Despite this, Harriet and her friends passed the day playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Around lunch, Fred actually pulled Harriet aside and snuck her into Charlie’s old room. He awkwardly circumnavigated the stacks of boxes, going all the way to the back corner and returned with a box that did not look as dusty as the others.

“Lemme guess, _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_?” she asked, shrewdly.

“Well yeah,” Fred said. “We had to hide it somewhere Mum wouldn’t look.”

He set the box down and opened it. “Just a few things we’ve come up with that Mum didn’t bin,” he said, smiling proudly.

“Oh, I recognize these,” Harriet said taking a wand out. It was the same kind of trick wand Fred had used to bribe the American girls living with the Flumes.

“Yeah,” Fred said proudly. “George and I are sure those are going to be a favourite. We’ve spent five months developing the toffees. We’re really anxious to test out the Canary Cremes.”

“Do I want to know?” Harriet asked.

Fred laughed. He smiled and looked down at Harriet’s left wrist. “Oh, that’s nice,” he said pointing.

Harriet looked down too, and saw the bracelet she’d been given, secretly by someone, the previous Christmas.

“Oh, yeah,” she said holding it up. “Got it from someone last Christmas. Never found out who.”

“Really?” Fred asked, studying it. “Lucky Dora didn’t rat it out to McGonagall too then, eh?”

Harriet shrugged. “Yeah, well I mean, I’d already put it on, and it didn’t kill me or anything. It’s weird though, a little card came with it, but I forgot to fill it out after the _Firebolt_.”

“A card?” Fred asked. “What was on it?”

“Oh, just questions about how well it worked.”

“How did it work?”

“Well, it’s supposed to turn red when someone around me is being deceitful, like the Pocket Sneakoscope that Ronnie got me.”

“Yeah, bit less conspicuous than a Sneakoscope isn’t it?” Fred asked. “Uh, if it works, that is.”

“Yeah, well…” Harriet began another thought occurring to her that had not before. “Actually, I think it did.”

“Did it?” Fred asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I just remembered. Every time it went red last year Pettigrew was around, you know, as Scabbers. And… you know, now I think on it, the Sneakoscope Ronnie gave me would only go off when Pettigrew was nearby too.”

Fred was looking at the bracelet, very satisfied.

Harriet looked from the bracelet, to Fred, to the bracelet again and rolled her eyes. “Omigod it was you, wasn’t it?” she said giving his shoulder a playful shove.

“Ack, hey!” Fred laughed. “Well of course it was. George and I got the idea to make it after that Sneakoscope kept going off while we were putting beetles in Bill’s soup.”

Harriet chuckled. “Beetles? I’m beginning to think the slightest thing will make a Sneakoscope spin.”

“It obviously worked really well,” Fred continued, waiving his hand at Harriet’s comment. “But we thought it was a bit over the top as an actual defence mechanism. So we started making a more discrete method of detection.

“Then there was Sirius on the loose—yeah I know he’s innocent- but we _didn’t_ at the time,” Fred said seeing the look on Harriet’s face. “And well, you were definitely the person who needed something like that the most. I mean you couldn’t be in class and have that mad Sneakoscope go off and cause a scene anytime someone lied about their homework. So just thought this could keep you on your guard, but secretly.”

Harriet flushed looking up at Fred. Fred had always been much nicer to her than anyone else, but this was too much.

“Wow,” she said softly. “Thank you Fred, that was very sweet of you. But why didn’t you just tell me about it?”

Fred flushed and ran a hand over his hair, rather like Mr Weasley did when puzzled or anxious. “Well, George wanted to give it to Erica, for one,” he admitted. “You can imagine the hell he gave me when she got kidnapped,” he muttered under his breath. “And we were really trying to keep our inventions under the radar at that point.”

Harriet smiled and actually went up on tip-toes to peck Fred on the cheek. Fred instantly went as red as his hair.

“Well thanks, Fred. It was really sweet, and I’ll definitely keep wearing it as much as I can,” she said.

Fred beamed.

## * * * *

Harriet shivered. Her nerves were wracked in a way they’d never been before. She hadn’t even been this nervous at her first Quidditch match. She supposed it was because, unlike Quidditch, her godfather’s freedom – possibly his life – hung on her testimony.

Mrs Weasley had woken them at the crack of dawn. She had gone through everyone’s clothes the night before and picked out their nicest wears. George, as the only witness of the boys, was wearing a pressed, three-piece suit, though it was a bit long in the legs for him, having once been Bill’s.

Hermione was wearing a navy blazer and white blouse with navy skirt, nude hose and pumps. Ronnie, in an attempt at early morning levity, had joked about Hermione applying for a job with the Ministry herself. Her laughter died abruptly however when her mother presented her with a light-blue cardigan, white floral sundress, white bobby-socks and saddle-shoes.

Dora meanwhile was wearing a black cardigan with a white and grey argyle pattern on the chest, a white button up shirt underneath, a black a-line skirt, black knee socks and polished black clogs.

“You look nice,” Harriet said.

Dora flushed a little. “Well, I’ve had a good source of inspiration,” she said.

Harriet blushed in response. She herself was wearing another of Jess’ old outfits; a white long-sleeved turtleneck, burgundy pinafore dress, white knee socks and penny loafers.

Ronnie had rolled her eyes, muttering “girls” and tromped out of the room angrily.

Now, an hour later, they were standing in the employee entrance to the Ministry of Magic. They had arrived via floo powder, and Harriet’s mouth fell open, taking in the sight.

The floor was a dark, polished wood. The ceiling was a bright, peacock blue, and was inlaid with golden symbols that moved about, spelling out words like a giant announcement board. The walls were panelled with the same kind of wood as the floor, and lined up and down by gilded fireplaces.

Many witches and wizards were coming and going through them, bustling in and out, some wearing variously coloured uniforms. Echoing voices filled the atrium, the volume increased by the constant popping and cracking of Ministry witches and wizards apparating and disapparating.

“Over ‘ere, Monsieur Weasley,” called a deep voice with a thick French accent.

They looked around and saw that Kieran, Scott, and Dora’s parents were already there.

“This way, everyone,” Mr Weasley said. “As visitors, you’ll all have to be checked in.”

He led the group down the long atrium, a giant, golden fountain looming into view. Harriet gaped at the sight. It was enormous and featured a tall, stoic looking wizard with a beaming witch beside him. The wizard was pointing his wand straight up in the air. Arrayed around them was a goblin, a centaur, and a house-elf. Water was spouting from **each** of the witch and wizard’s wands, the tip of the centaur’s arrow, the point of the goblin’s hat, and the tips of the house-elf’s ears.

“The Fountain of Magical Brethren,” Mr Weasley said to Harriet when he saw her looking.

“Where are werewolves?” Harriet asked, without thinking.

“Ah, well,” Mr Weasley said uncomfortably. “The fountain is rather old, and despite calls to add other magical beings, the Ministry has been, well, _reluctant_ to change such a _historical_ landmark.”

Harriet couldn’t help but notice the slight tone of disdain in Mr Weasley’s voice. Harriet gave the fountain a slightly more distasteful look as they passed. She did note that the bottom of the fountain’s pool was covered in a thin layer of bronze knuts and silver sickles, and a small engraved plaque declared that all the proceeds of the pool went to St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Mr Weasley led them to a small golden gate with a sign labelled _Security_. Seated at a window beneath the sign was a poorly shaven wizard in peacock blue robes. He didn’t see them approach at first, too engrossed in his copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

“Good morning,” Mr Weasley said. “I’m escorting some guests today.”

The man looked up and took in the group. “Blimey,” he said. “ _Some guests_ is right, Arthur. Right, first one into the gate.”

One by one, the group passed through the security gate. The security wizard waved a long, golden rod up and down everyone’s front and back, then set everyone’s wands in a small golden instrument. The instrument vibrated before spitting out a small strip of parchment with a description of each wand’s makeup.

Finally through security, Mr Weasley led them to a row of nearly two-dozen golden gates. Behind each was a lift.

“I think I’m noticing a pattern here,” Marcus said, taking in the gates with mounting distaste.

“Not a fan of gold?” Dora asked. She sounded slightly short.

Marcus shrugged. “Just wonder how many families could have been fed with that gold, instead?”

Dora sniffed and hurried past Marcus into the lift with her family and the O’Briens. He looked after her with some concern as the lift dropped out of sight, when Hermione nudged his elbow and pointed to another small placard that read:

 

_All gates generously donated by the Flamel Foundation for Human-Goblin Relations_

 

“Oh,” Marcus muttered.

Hermione smiled patting his arm consolingly. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Well, you saw the sign,” he muttered.

They stepped into the next lift. The lift trundled downwards.

“Where is Sirius’ trial?” Harriet asked Mr Weasley.

“Down in old courtroom ten,” he said with a hint of foreboding in his voice. “They haven’t used that one since—ah, here we are.”

The lift stopped and a cool, disembodied female voice said, “Department of Mysteries.”

“Department of Mysteries?” Harriet asked.

“No time to worry about that,” Mr Weasley said, guiding them towards a single black door at the end of the corridor.

Harriet expected them to continue towards the door, but instead Mr Weasley guided them down another corridor off the left and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom was another corridor which put Harriet in mind of the corridors of the dungeons of Hogwarts. The corridor was lined with lit torches in brackets that seemed to do very little to actually light the corridor, and heavy wooden doors with iron bolts and keyholes.

“Ah, there you are,” said a very familiar, and very welcome voice as they reached the end of the corridor.

As they finally reached **C** ourtroom Ten, two figures came into view in the dim torchlight. It was Remus and Daniel. Harriet’s legs worked on autopilot and she ran forward to jump up and hugged Remus tight around the neck. He went rigid for a moment before he slowly relaxed and hugged Harriet back.

She let go and dropped to the floor before giving Daniel a similar jumping hug treatment. Daniel chuckled though it was a little forced. “It’s going to be fine,” he said softly, patting Harriet’s back as he held her.

Harriet only responded by hugging him tighter.

“Good timing,” Remus said checking his watch. “They start hearing witnesses in ten minutes.”

“Who’s first?” Ronnie asked.

Harriet finally let go of Daniel. She didn’t have words anymore. Her nerves had taken them all away.

“I think Dora’s going to be first,” Remus said. “It seemed to me that they were going to call the girls alphabetically.”

“Great, I would be last,” Ronnie muttered.

“Well, better than being first,” Dora retorted.

Ronnie shrugged. “Rather just get it over with.”

“You’re both going to be fine, dears,” Mrs Flamel said, cupping each girls’ cheeks and smiling down at them.

Dora smiled and nodded, but Ronnie went scarlet as she watched Mrs Flamel fuss over Dora, straightening her collar and brushing off her shoulders. To her surprise, Daniel began to do the same to Harriet, adjusting the collar of her turtleneck. Mrs Weasley pulled Ronnie over and took out a handkerchief from her purse and began rubbing Ronnie’s nose.

“Mum, I told you that spot’s just some concentrated freckles!” Ronnie fussed as Mrs Weasley scrubbed.

Harriet was just beginning to relax when the door to Courtroom Ten finally opened and another wizard in peacock blue robes stepped out.

“Call Miss Dora Flamel,” the wizard said.

Dora’s mother and father gave her an extra tight hug and Dora swallowed heading towards the open door. As she passed Harriet, Dora gave her a little half-attempt at a smile, gave her hand a squeeze, and headed into the room. The wizard shut the door with an ominous thump behind her.

They moved over and everyone sat on the benches around the door. Harriet wasted little time sitting between Daniel and Remus. She gave each a little look and at once snaked her arms through theirs and hugged them tight to her sides. They both responded by simply smiling down at her softly.

Dora’s time in the courtroom seemed to drag on forever. Finally, the door opened again and Dora came out. She gave a sigh of relief and her face actually broke into a smile.

“Call Miss Hermione Granger,” the wizard at the door said.

Hermione got up and Dora gave Hermione a good luck hug before crossing to her parents, hugging them too.

“How was it?” Ronnie asked, still nervous despite Dora’s seeming good cheer.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that bad,” Dora said. “There was some weird little short woman who tried to grill me, but Madame Bones and Professor Dumbledore shut her up pretty quick.”

“’Little short woman?’” Remus asked.

“Yeah, wearing a horrid pink cardigan and a bow in her hair.”

Remus’s lips turned back from his teeth, and Harriet felt him tense at the mention of whoever Dora had seen. Daniel reached over to pat Remus’ shoulder. “Well, you couldn’t expect Fudge to just let this slide without someone on the inside to cause trouble.”

“The Minister’s interfering with the case?” Mr O’Brien asked.

Daniel shrugged but his face was grim. “Not sure. But you can bet he wants someone on the inside. Of course he’d send Umbridge… jumped up little toad.”

“You know, I thought she looked a bit like a toad…” Dora said.

Daniel laughed.

Hermione took even longer than Dora did. With Hermione’s excellent memory, Harriet was sure that she was giving the court a complete minute by minute account of the events that night. Harriet shivered again and Daniel put an arm around her shoulder.

“Just be honest, Harriet,” he said. “It’s being run by Albus and Madam Bones. Amelia’s fair and she’ll hear you out.”

Harriet nodded, swallowing. Finally, after almost a half an hour, the door opened and Hermione stepped out. She exhaled deeply and looked on the verge of collapse.

“Call Miss Harriet Potter,” the wizard said.

Harriet got shakily to her feet and walked towards the door. She stole a glance back at everyone. The group all gave her encouraging smiles.

## * * * *

The interior of the room did not encourage her. The walls were the same as the walls of the corridor, and also dimly lit by torches. The room was lined with benches on three sides, and every seat was full. Directly across from her, a stern looking woman with a monocle was looking down at her imperiously. Seated next to her was Professor Dumbledore who was smiling at her pleasantly.

Next to Professor Dumbledore was a man whom Harriet did not recognize. He had a very kind face, bald on top with white hair and a fluffy beard which came down to the middle of his very portly belly. He looked rather like Buddha figurines Harriet had seen at Asian restaurants on occasions the Dursleys had been unable to find Harriet a babysitter. He was even dressed in an Asian fashion, wearing silky black robes tied with a sash around his wide middle, with a red undershirt.

Harriet returned her attention to the headmaster. The sight of Professor Dumbledore’s warm smile did a great deal in calming Harriet’s nerves. There was a great deal of muttering that broke out at Harriet’s entrance. Harriet felt self-consciousness rise in her every time the reality that she was famous was forced upon her.

“Please have a seat, Miss Potter,” the woman with the monocle said and Harriet finally saw the chair.

It was the most horrible chair she had ever seen. It was straight-backed and ebony black. The worst part were the chains hanging from the thick wooden arms. Harriet nervously approached the chair and slowly sat. She jumped as the chains rattled a little but did nothing else.

“Witness Interview Number Three,” said the woman who Harriet now took to be Madam Amelia Bones. “Interview subject, Harriet Lily Potter.”

There was a furious scribbling noise that didn’t seem to match the movements of the scribe’s quill. Harriet glanced to her left and saw another woman watching her.

The woman was not dressed in the garb of the other members of the court. Instead, she was wearing a bright green suit, with exceptionally long fingernails on her hands, horn-rimmed glasses, and poorly coloured, badly permed hair. Harriet felt another chill under the woman’s piercing stare. She was looking at Harriet as though she had never seen anything so wonderful in her life. Beside her, a stack of parchment was set on the wooden bench, and an acid green quill was dancing across the stack of its own volition.

“You are, Harriet Lily Potter, of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?” Madam Bones asked.

“Oh, y-yes,” Harriet stammered.

“And you were present during the night in question in which the defendant, Sirius Black, claims to have revealed the truth of his innocence and the guilt of one, Peter Pettigrew?”

“Yes, Miss,” Harriet said.

She was sitting on the very edge of the seat, not wanting to get any closer to those chains than she had to.

“And what can you tell us about the events of that night?”

Harriet glanced at Professor Dumbledore. He gave no outward sign of acknowledgement, simply continued smiling with benign interest. Harriet took a breath.

“W-well, I… first I… my friends and I…”

“It’s quite alright, Miss Potter,” Madam Bones said. “We are aware from the other interviewees’ testimony that you snuck out of bounds to visit one Rubeus Hagrid in the time proceeding the failed execution of his hippogriff. You are not on trial for that, we are simply attempting to put together the picture of what happened that night.”

Harriet flushed and nodded.

“Yes, Miss,” she said. “We snuck out to see Hagrid, because the auror wouldn’t let us go see him.”

Harriet took another deep breath and ploughed on. “We were at Hagrid’s for about ten minutes when my friend Hermione discovered my other friend Ronnie’s pet rat, Scabbers, at least we thought he was Scabbers at the time, hiding in one of Hagrid’s milk-jugs. Then we saw Professor Dumbledore, the Minister, and the executioner and the committee member coming.”

“What happened then?” Madam Bones asked.

“Well, we snuck out the back, and around the side of the cabin making our way back to the castle,” Harriet went on. “We were about halfway back when Ronnie had to stop because Petti-er-Scabbers, was freaking out and trying to get away.”

Harriet paused but no one spoke.

“So, I was wearing a hoodie, and so we put Scabbers in my pouch. And that’s when Sirius attacked.”

Harriet was distracted once more by the staring woman’s quill.

“He attacked, you say?” asked a voice Harriet recognized. It was Umbridge, the Minister’s senior undersecretary.

“Y-yes,” Harriet stammered.

“Goodness, that’s hardly the actions of an innocent man, is it?” Umbridge said.

Her voice sounded disapproving and sad, but her eyes did not match the tone. Instead, they were glancing towards the staring woman, looking smug. However, the other woman paid Umbridge no mind, continuing to look at Harriet with hunger.

Harriet looked back at Umbridge and noted that for the briefest of moments a look of disdain passed over her face. “Well, he was really trying to get to Pettigrew,” Harriet said. “He’d been trying to all year. That’s why he broke into the boys’ dormitory earlier in the year instead of the girls. See, Pettigrew was pretending to be my friend Ronnie’s pet rat, Scabbers. Well, my other friend Hermione’s cat knew, we think he’s part Kneazle, and he kept attacking Scabbers in our dorm.”

“A cat attacking a rat, that is hardly an unnatural event,” Umbridge said.

“Thank you, Dolores,” Madam Bones said, curtly. “May I remind you, yet again, that members of the court are to wait for acknowledgement before speaking? And also that you’ve made that same point three times now.”

“Oh yes, silly me, Amelia,” Umbridge said, giving a sickly sweet giggle that prickled the hair on Harriet’s neck.

“Go on, Miss Potter,” Madam Bones said.

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “Well, it was right after we moved Scabbers into the boys’ dorm that Sirius broke in and went into the boys’ dorm.”

Madam Bones was contemplating Harriet carefully. Harriet felt as though she was hooked up to one of those lie-detectors that were always featured in Uncle Vernon’s crime dramas.

“And why did Black not capture the supposed rat who he claims was Peter Pettigrew?”

“Well, just before that, Pettigrew, or Scabbers, bit himself and left a toe behind. Sirius said it was exactly like what Pettigrew did when escaping from him the day after…”

Harriet trailed off. A solemn wave of silence passed over the room.

“After my parents were killed. He said Pettigrew cut off his finger and left it behind after blowing apart the street.”

“Well, that… that does follow, Madam Bones,” said one of the court members.

Madam Bones nodded, still studying Harriet hard. “Yes… it does. Go on, Miss Potter.”

Harriet took another steadying breath. “Well, going back to the night Sirius escaped, he got a hold of my hoodie and dragged me into the secret passage under the Whomping Willow. He then put Pettigrew in a cage and he well…” Harriet trailed off, self-consciously.

She didn’t want to lie, or keep anything from the court, but she couldn’t help but feel telling the court that Sirius had tied her up wouldn’t help his case very much. She glanced at Professor Dumbledore again. He was leaning back in his chair, forming a steeple shape with his forefingers, slowly nodding his head in thought.

It happened then in only the briefest of moments. Professor Dumbledore gave one extra little short nod. To anyone else, Harriet was sure it would have looked as though Professor Dumbledore was falling asleep. But Harriet saw Professor Dumbledore’s blue eyes looking into hers the entire time, and knew the nod had been to her.

“He tied my hands, and took me into the Shack with him,” Harriet said lamely.

“By ‘the Shack’ you are referring to the building once known as the Shrieking Shack?” Madam Bones asked.

“Yes, sorry,” Harriet said. “There he took me up to a room where he’d been… well… holding Erica Quoy, one of the American students…”

“And why was he holding Miss Quoy?” Madam Bones asked.

“Well… she discovered that h-he’s secretly an animagus…” Harriet said. “And he was still trying to hide so… he said he didn’t have a choice…”

More silence passed at this.

“That was when your friends arrived?” Madam Bones said, prompting Harriet on.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “My friend Hermione’s cat pushed the secret knot in the trunk of the Whomping Willow so they could get through into the tunnel. Sirius didn’t expect them to follow. He expected them to go for help, so he was just going to leave Erica and me behind and leave with Pettigrew. Dora disarmed him from behind. Hermione let Erica and me out… then he got the drop on Dora and just then Daniel and Remus showed up.”

“Mister Daniel Dusk and Remus Lupin?” Madam Bones asked.

“Yes, Miss,” Harriet said. “Daniel and Remus explained about Remus being, well, a werewolf, and about Pettigrew… and then they forced Pettigrew to reveal himself…”

“I see,” Madam Bones said. “And how exactly did they force him to do that?”

Harriet squinted a bit as she remembered. “They… well Pettigrew was in a cage… and the three, Daniel, Remus and Sirius, lined up with their wands. Daniel vanished the cage, and Remus and Sirius hit him with some kind of spell. The rat, Pettigrew, rose into the air and twisted around a lot, then he fell to the ground and there was this flash of light and Pettigrew just, grew out of the rat right there.”

No one spoke after this. Many of the witches and wizards of the court were scribbling notes. Umbridge was giving Harriet a calculating, and not at all friendly look. Madam Bones was studying Harriet so imperiously and motionless that Harriet might have thought she’d been petrified.

“Is that all, Miss Potter?”

Harriet nodded.

“Well, that account tallies almost exactly with the others so far,” a wizard Harriet didn’t recognize spoke up.

“Yes,” Madam Bones said. “Do you agree, Albus?”

“My dear lady, I do,” Professor Dumbledore said. “But I believe it would still be wisest to hear Miss and Master Weasleys’ testimonies. They witnessed the events as well, there’s no reason not to hear what they have to say.”

“You’re right, Albus,” Madam Bones said. “Very well, Miss Potter, you are dismissed.”

Harriet blinked. She was being dismissed, just like that? She felt that she had more to say, so much more she should explain. How manic Sirius was when he had taken her and Erica captive. How desperate he was to prove his innocence. How he’d braved the sea to escape Azkaban to come to her rescue and save her from Pettigrew. How he’d risked death fighting a transformed werewolf to protect Harriet and her friends.

Harriet slowly rose and at once the wizard in peacock robes was standing beside her, gesturing to the door. Harriet followed and noticed as she did that the staring woman was getting up to leave as well.

“Leaving us so soon, Miss Skeeter?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

The woman turned a toothy smile on the headmaster. As she did, Harriet noted the woman had a number of golden teeth.

“Oh I’m afraid so, Albus. I have more than enough for my story at this point, I think. Miss Potter’s testimony was _most_ enlightening,” she said.

“Call Miss Rona—” Madam Bones paused as Professor Dumbledore put a hand on her arm and whispered in her ear. “Oh, sorry, yes, call Miss _Ronnie_ Weasley.”

Harriet moved towards the door. As she did she felt like she was moving on auto-pilot. It couldn’t really be over so soon, could it? The wizard opened the door and Harriet stepped out. The Skeeter woman followed after her and gave Harriet one more grin, as though Harriet had made all her Christmases come true at once, and hustled off down the corridor.

“Skeeter was in there?” Mr Weasley asked watching her walk away with narrowed eyes. “That can’t mean anything good.”

“Oh, you might be surprised,” Daniel said, shrewdly.

Harriet gave Ronnie a hug before Ronnie followed the wizard into the room and the door shut.

“How did it go…?” Kieran asked in a concerned voice.

“It… it was okay…” Harriet said.

Hermione and Dora each put an arm around Harriet’s shoulders and guided her over to the benches.

“I should have said more,” Harriet sniffed. “But they just… said that my story matched Hermione’s and Dora’s well enough and I could go…”

Harriet sighed looking up at Daniel. “This isn’t going to be over anytime soon, is it?”

Daniel’s lips tightened and he was about to respond when a voice from the door cut him off.

“No, it is not, but for today I believe you performed admirably,” said a gravely, but kind voice.

Harriet looked up and saw the portly man who had been sitting next to Professor Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled brightly.

“The point of the hearing was to check that all your stories match, and yet do not match.”

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

“Well, if your stories are all too different, then your story isn’t really credible,” the man explained. “But if your stories are _too_ similar, word for word the same, then it’s a sign that Sirius Confunded you all. So if you just went in and gave your story and answered any questions as candidly as possible then you did exactly what you needed to help clear Sirius’ name.”

Harriet blinked. The man smiled and turned to walk down the corridor as well. Everyone stared after the man. Most everyone was perplexed, but Daniel was almost reverent.

“G-General?” Daniel said, his voice full of astonishment.

“Yes, young man?” the old man asked, turning back to the group, smiling jovially. “And I have not been a general for _many_ years now,” he chuckled.

“I just… sorry, I’ve read all your writings on command and leadership, it’s an honour to meet you,” Daniel went on. “I… never expected to see you here.”

The old man’s eyes twinkled brighter. “No, I don’t suppose anyone did. Oh, and before I forget.”

He turned to Harriet and after giving his hand a quick flourish, was holding a flower with a ring of white petals and a golden stamen. He handed it over to Harriet, bowing low. Harriet blushed and blinked taking it when she noticed something odd. The man had produced the flower from nowhere, and yet Harriet did not see his wand anywhere.

“In condolence of all you have lost, in honour of all you have achieved, and in the confidence of success in all your future endeavours,” the man said as Harriet took the flower.

He bowed once more and turned, walking away again.

“Uh… who was that?” Dora asked.

“That… was a living legend,” Daniel said cryptically.

Harriet was looking at her flower, still surprised. She wondered if he’d just used simple muggle ‘magic.’ Perhaps the flower had been hidden up his sleeve?

“That’s…” Hermione said slowly, leaning over to look at the flower. “Oh, I know these flowers… it’s called a white lotus.

“Or more commonly,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling “the water lily.”

“Lily…” Harriet said finally looking up. The man was gone from sight already.

“Okay, but still, who was he, for real?” Dora asked.

Daniel smiled more. “One of the greatest wizard generals of all time. He’s from Bhutan. Sixty years ago he helped defeat an uprising in the Western Kingdom of the Four Nations. He could have been made king but he refused and abdicated to his son and resigned. Like I said… he’s a legend… General Jigme Dorji Wengshuk.”


	4. The Surprise Present

“Well, it really was about time I made an appearance in this thing, wasn’t it?”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“Happy Birthday!”

“OW!”

Harriet sat up quickly in her bed, clutching the top of her head.

“Don’t hit her, Ronnie!” Hermione chastised.

“She’s a Quidditch player, she can take it,” Ronnie said.

Dora laughed.

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked looking around.

“Uh, it’s your birthday, duh,” Ronnie said standing up. “So wake up, the party’s gonna start soon!”

Harriet blinked. “Party?”

“Yeah,” Dora beamed. “Your first surprise birthday party.”

Harriet flushed brightly. In all of the worries over the testimonies and Sirius’ trial, she had completely forgotten all about her birthday.

“We invited a whole bunch of people,” Hermione said, beaming too.

“Who?” Harriet asked.

“Well get cleaned up and dressed and you can find out,” Dora said, her eyes twinkling.

“We’re going to go help Mum set up some more,” Ronnie said.

The three left and Harriet got up. She spent a while fussing over her hair and then ran back up the stairs to get dressed. She decided on Jess’ old floral sundress and sandals for a festive, summery feeling and headed down the many flights of stairs to the kitchen.

No one was there. There was an odd rasping noise and Harriet turned to see the Weasley family owl, Errol, sitting on his perch. Hedwig was sitting next to him, nudging a dead mouse she must have caught the night before towards him.

“Good girl, Hedwig,” Harriet said reaching up to rub the back of Hedwig’s head gently.

Hedwig gave a little hoot and she tried to rub Errol’s scruff too but he winced as if in pain. “Poor Errol,” Harriet said.

Errol gave a very tired hoot and Harriet sighed before heading out into the back garden to find the rest of the Weasleys and her friends.

As she stepped out, Harriet gasped. The back garden had been completely transformed. The grass was trimmed and all the random items cleared away. The Weasleys had set up a marquee with more tables and chairs. There was the sharp smell of barbeque smoke and Harriet saw Charlie standing next to a barbeque pit, slowly turning chicken legs and ribs.

Ronnie, Dora, Ginny and Hermione were helping Mrs Weasley set out plates on the tables, while the boys were bringing over some more chairs. Mr Weasley and Percy were setting up a line of tables against the side of the house.

Harriet walked over to the marquee to pick up a stack of plates to start setting them up but Mrs Weasley quickly bustled over and took them from her hands. “No, no, dear,” she said smiling. “This is your special day. You can sit and relax.”

“O-okay,” Harriet said, uncertainly.

She looked around a bit more as Mrs Weasley started setting the plates out. She was suddenly wondering just how many people the Weasleys had invited.

Not knowing what else to do and not wanting to be a nuisance, she walked over to the grill.

Charlie shut the lid as Harriet approached and smiled. “Give them a bit more and they should be ready,” he said.

“O-oh good,” Harriet said awkwardly.

Charlie chuckled. “Not that used to such big to-dos, eh?”

Harriet shook her head.

Charlie smiled wider. “Hey, well, got something to show you, ‘round here,” he said and gave a nod to the old Weasley family broom shed.

Harriet looked around and realized no one was looking. She followed Charlie and he smiled at her, opening the door. He reached inside and pulled out a parcel wrapped in burlap, shaking some spiders off of it.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He grinned more. “For your friend, Kieran, actually,” he said and pulled off the wrapping.

Harriet tilted her head looking at the contraption in his hands. It looked like a big golden bicycle kick-stand, with a foot pedal on it.

“For a broomstick,” Charlie said taking out one of the brooms, and shaking even more spiders off of it. “You fit it on the broomstick like this,” he said sliding the handle of the broom into a slot in the contraption. “Tighten down these nuts here to hold it on, then swing your leg over and put it into the foot pedal down there.”

He showed Harriet how it fit. Harriet felt her heart lifting as she realized how it worked.

“And so when he comes in for a landing…” Charlie grinned and pressed a little lever on the base of the contraption and it sprung down.

“Yep, just land normally. It’s got a spring in it so it doesn’t make too jarring a landing,” Charlie explained. “What do you think?”

Harriet bit her lip and without thinking gave Charlie a hug. “It’s wonderful, he’ll love it!” she said.

Charlie chuckled hugging her back. He quickly removed the device from the broom before rewrapping it and placing it back in the shed. They went back to the back garden, pausing to let a little gang of gnomes pass, being chased Crookshanks.

“Well, we’re just about set. Our first guests should be arriving any minute now,’ Mrs Weasley said.

“Bet you it’s the Lovegoods,” Ronnie said. Sure enough, there was a squeaking at the gate to the back garden.

“Hello Weasley family and friends!” called the cheerful voice of Xenophilius Lovegood as they rounded the corner of the house.

Ginny grinned and ran over giving her friend Luna a hug. Luna was dressed as eccentrically as ever, today wearing a lurid pink romper, yellow tights, and rainbow patterned legwarmers over purple combat boots.

“Hi, Luna,” Harriet said cheerfully.

“Hello, Harriet. Happy birthday,” Luna said in her dreamy voice. She was carrying a small package with a card, and Mr Lovegood was holding a large bowl.

“Oh, my, what have you brought for us, Xeno?” Mrs Weasley asked cheerfully, taking the bowl from his hands.

“Ah, infusion of Gurdyroot,” Mr Lovegood said, proudly.

Mrs Weasley’s smile faltered very briefly. “Oh, how nice,” she said and hurried over, setting it on one of the tables Mr Weasley and Percy had set up.

The next group to arrive was made up of parents. Kieran’s, Scott’s, Dora’s, and Hermione’s parents, along with Marcus’ father and Dora’s little sister, Emma.

“Oh good, we did get here early then,” Mrs O’Brien said looking around. “It’s a wonderful garden you have, Molly.”

“Oh thank you, Irene,” Mrs Weasley said waving a dismissive hand.

“We stopped into the town for a spot of coffee and to meet up,” Mrs Granger said warmly.

“Good morning!” Mr Weasley said hurrying over at the sight of the Grangers and Marcus’ father.

“Well, we all brought some goodies as requested,” Mrs McIntyre said.

“Hi, Emma,” said Harriet, cheerfully.

To Harriet’s surprise, instead of looking away or being bashful, Emma smiled as well. “Hello Harriet, happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Emma,” Harriet replied.

At that moment, Ginny waved over to Emma who continued to smile and walked over to join them.

The McIntyres had brought some smoked fish that Dobby had caught from the river at their estate, while Dora’s family supplied entrees of French cuisine. Harriet was most excited to see treacle tarts, the same kind she had hidden underneath her floorboards, brought by the O’Briens. And finally Marcus’ father had brought some sliced smoked ham.

“Anyone ‘ome?” asked a friendly and all too familiar voice.

Harriet beamed seeing Hagrid stick his large, shaggy head around the corner of the house’s second story.

“Welcome, Hagrid!” Mrs Weasley said.

Harriet smiled and ran up to hug Hagrid too. He blushed a little awkwardly but smiled. “Heh, oy now, still a teacher yeh know?” he said chuckling.

“Yeah, don’t care,” Harriet said.

Hagrid laughed more and put a big hand on her back in his version of hug.

Bit by bit, the rest of the guests arrived. Harriet couldn’t’ help feeling surprised to see Parvati, her twin sister Padma, and Lavender. They all gave the Weasleys’ house apprehensive looks, but smiled warmly as they were greeted.

After another twenty minutes, the next group arrived. This time, it was Jeremy, Isabella, Isabella’s little sister Carmina, along with a group of adults who must have been their parents. Jeremy’s parents were very friendly. Jeremy looked much like his father, except he had his mother’s mouth and ears. There was another boy with Jeremy who Harriet had seen at school but couldn’t remember by name. Jeremy’s parents introduced him as Kyle Conner, one of his cousins. Harriet wondered if he was also a blood wolf, but wasn’t sure how to ask.

Meanwhile, it seemed only Isabella’s mother had come. She was very pretty, like Isabella and Carmina, and all three were already the same height. Carmina and Kyle hurried off to talk with Ginny, Luna, and Emma. Harriet felt slightly awkward at this introduction. She had been sort of taken with Jeremy ever since meeting him in wolf-form after casting her Patronus to drive off the Dementors the night she and Hermione helped Sirius escape. It wasn’t so much that he was in wolf form, as how he had written in the dirt that he thought the world was a better place with her in it, and how she gave people hope, even him.

As a result, she had felt a slight sense of jealousy towards Isabella ever since, as Jeremy and Isabella seemed to be such close friends. However, Harriet felt a little confused that deep down, what made her feel most awkward around Isabella wasn’t that she was jealous over Jeremy. It was the way she couldn’t help but notice how attractive Isabella was. And it wasn’t jealousy over that either.

After the Owens and Martinezes, the next to arrive were Remus and Daniel. Despite having only seen them a few days ago, Harriet was still excited enough to give them running jump hugs, though this time she was smiling instead of terrified.

The next to arrive after Remus and Daniel were Dean and Seamus. Unlike Parvati and Lavender, they didn’t seem at all bothered by the Weasley house and instead were eyeing the nearby Quidditch paddock with interest.

After Dean and Seamus came Basheera. Mrs Weasley looked as though she was going to have a nervous breakdown on the spot when Basheera’s father introduced himself as a Prince. Parvati and Lavender meanwhile were going spare as Basheera’s brothers came into view as well, much to Dean and Seamus’ disgust.

The last to arrive was, of course, Neville. Neville’s arrival caused the Gryffindors in particular to bite their tongues trying not to laugh. Neville arrived with his grandmother, who was wearing the very same outfit that Neville had forced his boggart of Professor Snape to wear during their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin.

“Well, that looks like everyone,” Mr Weasley said, cheerfully. “How’s the grill coming, Charlie?”

“Oh we’re all set,” Charlie said.

“Then let’s eat!”

Everyone grabbed plates and lined up at the pot-luck table. As the birthday girl, Harriet was ushered to the front of the line to go first. She paused as she took in all the food.

“Something wrong, dear?” Mrs Weasley asked.

“I just… don’t know where to start,” Harriet admitted awkwardly.

“Start at the beginning, take as much as you want, and when that’s not enough go back up for more!” George said eagerly.

Everyone in the line laughed, even Harriet.

By the end of dinner, everyone was too full to move. They were all lounging in their chairs in the summer sun. The parents all talked merrily about the magical events of the day. The kids all talked about their summers so far.

“So, is it true?” Seamus asked Harriet. “Sirius Black’s really innocent?”

“Well, yeah,” Harriet said.

“Wow,” Lavender chimed in. “It still must have been so scary being kidnapped like that.”

“I don’t know… if Black’s story’s true, one could find it romantic,” Parvati said dreamily.

Her twin sister, Padma, rolled her eyes. Clearly Padma was not as inclined towards romance as Parvati was. Harriet then gave a glance in Charlie’s direction before looking back at Parvati. Maybe Parvati would have some good tips on how to attract boys’ attention. Then she took a glance at Fred who was chatting with George and the elder of Basheera’s brothers. Maybe she didn’t need Parvati’s advice after all?

She puzzled after Fred for a bit. He had always been so much nicer to her than anyone else, even Ronnie. Yet, somehow, Harriet had never looked at him as much more than a brother she’d never had. Fred was always just, Fred, wasn’t he? He was loud and rambunctious and always getting into trouble and neglecting his studies and always there for her.

But it wasn’t just Fred. Kieran had always been there for her too. He’d injured his leg the year before trying to get to her after she fell from her broom. He was the one person in the world who knew her secret. Harriet’s head started to swim as she looked back and forth between the two boys and suddenly both of them seemed completely unrecognizable to her.

“Here we are!”

Harriet was distracted from her whirling thoughts when Mrs Weasley came walking over to the group, floating Harriet’s birthday cake before her. It was shaped like a Snitch and had “Happy Birthday, Harriet” on top in red icing. Harriet flushed and blew out the candles.

After that came the presents. She had to laugh as nearly everyone got her new items for Quidditch. Shin guards, goggles, scarves, and gloves. The exception was Dora, who had continued her theme of finding Harriet more of the Nancy Drew books she liked so much.

After the cake and presents, a lull came over the table once more and quiet conversation broke out as everyone was now completely full. Harriet was still having a hard time focusing on the conversation. She kept stealing little glances at Kieran and Fred. She decided to distract herself by turning her attention to the rest of the party.

Basheera’s father was deep in conversation with Mr Weasley and Mr Lovegood about muggle-life in his home country. The mothers were all gathered around talking about home life and how Mrs Weasley kept her garden so neat. Mrs Weasley seemed deeply impressed at the muggle-tips that Mrs Granger was giving. Dora’s mother, however, seemed a bit lost in this conversation. Dora rolled her eyes and leaned over to whisper to Harriet that her mother worked, and all their house-work was done by their family’s three house-elves; Beauregard, Castillon, and Snickers.

This brought Harriet’s attention back to the conversation going on at her own table. The topic had drifted to Quidditch and the World Cup. Ginny was attempting to explain the rules to Basheera’s baffled looking younger brother. As discussion about the World Cup started taking over, and her interest in trying out her new Quidditch gear grew, Harriet found herself forgetting just how full she was.

“Hey, let’s all play a match,” Dean said, eagerly. “Seamus and I brought our brooms.”

“Brilliant,” Dora said getting up quickly.

Kieran smiled and got to his feet with the help of his stick. Harriet remembered the stand that Charlie had made and looked around for him. He didn’t seem to be around. She bit her lip and the group of fourth years, along with Fred, George, Ginny, Luna, Emma, Isabella’s little sister and Jeremy’s cousin, all made their way to the Weasleys’ Quidditch paddock.

They stepped through the little gate **in** the tall hedge and everyone paused. Harriet’s mouth fell open. Charlie was already there. He was kneeling and fiddling with something on the ground. He looked up at the group and grinned. He stood and held up a broomstick that he had just finished fitting with the stand.

“Hey Kieran, mate,” Charlie said, holding out the broomstick. “Thought you might like to try this on for size.”

Kieran’s jaw dropped. “But, but I can’t, not with…” he patted his leg, trailing off.

Charlie beamed. “You can with this, mate. Here, I’ll show you.”

Charlie brought the broomstick over and held it in front of Kieran. “Here, stand on your good leg there, and swing the hurt one up and over.”

Kieran’s face was scarlet as he awkwardly did as told. He did wince briefly in pain as he swung the leg over, but it passed as soon as he lowered it again.

“Now, just stick your foot in that there,” Charlie said pointing to the pedal.

Kieran stuck the toe of his trainer into the pedal which tightened itself down.

“Uh, how do I get my foot out again?”

“Just give your ankle a little twist and it should come loose.”

Kieran tested and sure enough the straps loosened up at once and his foot could slide out.

“Perfect,” Charlie said. “Now, just kick off. When you land, the spring in the stand will bend just enough so you don’t slam into the ground, but also won’t just collapse under you, hurting your leg more.”

Kieran was speechless. He just kept staring at the stand, his mouth open.

“Uh, I think he said “kick off,” mate,” Marcus said, beaming.

Slowly, Kieran closed his mouth, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kicked off with his good leg. The broomstick shot into the air. Dean whooped and Scott jumped up and down, cheering his friend on as Kieran did a very wobbly circuit around the paddock. Dora was cheering too and Hermione was clearly fighting back tears of happiness.

“Well what the blazes is going on here?” Harriet heard Mr O’Brien’s voice asking cheerfully.

“Aye, Quidditch fun and no one… invited… us…” Mrs O’Brien chimed in though she trailed off.

“Mum!” Kieran shouted from the broom, his face more alight with glee than Harriet had ever seen it. “Da! I’m doing it! I’m flying!”

Kieran’s parents were speechless. “Kieran!” Mr O’Brien shouted moving past the gathered teens and staring blankly. “Kieran you’re going to—”

“No I’m not, Dad!” Kieran shouted.

Mr O’Brien froze and Charlie put one of his muscular arms around Kieran’s father’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” Charlie said. “Did it in secret. Mum was doing his laundry so got his measurements from his jeans.”

“H-how… how…” Mrs O’Brien stammered.

Charlie beamed. “Well, got the idea from going down into the town. Saw a muggle bicycle leaning on something called a kick-stand. It just clicked. Anyway, my brother Bill owed me a favour, and in turn one of his goblin friends owed him a favour.”

“That’s Goblin made…?” Mr O’Brien asked. Harriet noted that he had tears welling up in his eyes too.

“Yep,” Charlie said patting Mr O’Brien’s shoulder.

“How can we ever thank you, or pay you?” Mrs O’Brien exclaimed, her eyes never leaving her son’s gleeful face.

Charlie laughed. “I told you, it was a favour. We were out here flying about last week and couldn’t stand seeing him and Scott there left out.”

Charlie looked back up at Kieran who was flying higher and higher, and steadier and steadier. “Everyone should get to fly, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Mr O’Brien said, tears pouring down his cheeks now.

“Yes,” Mrs O’Brien sniffed and gave Charlie a hug so tight he grunted. “Everyone should get to fly.”


	5. Travels

“Yes, by all means keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But note when you do so, how quickly those enemies sometimes become friends.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Daniel’s voice carried through the open window to the side-garden.

 

_“THE MINISTRY’S BLACK SPOT_

_Just when one thought the Ministry could not possibly make itself look worse, they continue to surprise us. While most of us thought that the Ministry could sink no lower after proving incapable of capturing the so-called ‘mass murderer’ Sirius Black, and also failing to execute a rogue hippogriff; now, even the events of 31 October 1981 are coming into question. The incompetence in handling these events is beginning to reveal the Ministry’s skeletons. Needless to say, this particular journalist wonders just what it is the Ministry has been trying to hide for thirteen years._

_Everyone knows the story of Sirius Black. You-Know-Who’s second in command, who killed twelve innocent muggles with a single curse, along with one of his childhood friends who cornered him after he was exposed when You-Know-Who fell.”_

“Oh lordy,” Charlie muttered. “Where’s she going with this?”

“Shh,” Remus hushed.

Harriet bit her lip, tilting her head to listen closer. She could sense something in Daniel’s voice, but couldn’t put her finger on the emotion.

_“Then, just a year ago, Sirius Black became the first prisoner to successfully escape from Azkaban prison. The only wizard to do so and avoid detection by the Dementors. He proceeded to terrorize the countryside, particularly Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was nearly cornered, again, but managed to escape under mysterious circumstance. No doubt conveniently rescued by “Death Eater comrades” (or so the Ministry will claim and yet provide no proof for) only to turn himself in a week later.”_

Daniel paused his reading and chuckled. “‘Death Eater comrades’? Dear, oh dear, they’re recruiting _really_ young these days, aren’t they?”

“To say the least,” Remus chortled.

****

_“Now, as any discerning citizen of this country would, this reporter finds herself having to ask: why would a man facing the Dementor’s Kiss readily turn himself over?_

_The roots of the ugliness go far back. All the way back to that fateful night thirteen years ago. And so we must ask ourselves: what has the Ministry been keeping from us all along? Well, as Special Correspondent, for the Daily Prophet, to the upcoming trial for Sirius Black; I, Rita Skeeter, can confirm that there are a great many things the Ministry has kept from us and covered up over the years.”_

****

“ _Cover_ _ups_ ,” Percy interjected. “Paranoid rubbish.”

“Shh,” Mr Weasley hushed.

****

_“Suspicions were first aroused last August, following the bombing of the Daily Prophet headquarters in Diagon Alley. The Ministry was very quick to blame the incident on Sirius Black. But, as I myself was able to uncover, the bombing was not in fact the work of Sirius Black, but that of mass murderer, Solomon Kinney. Kinney, some may recall, also conducted an even deadlier bombing the summer of 1992, when he blew up a Muggle sporting stadium, killing hundreds and severely injuring Muggle-Born witch, Holly Cambridge.”_

****

Harriet gasped. She remembered, as if it were yesterday, how Ronnie had been so upset over the news of Holly Cambridge’s hospitalization. It was that which gave Mr Weasley the idea of flying them to Hogwarts instead of driving, resulting in their being pummelled by the Womping Willow. She also shivered at the mere memory of the bombing at Diagon Alley. That had been horrible enough, but it hadn’t killed ‘hundreds.’ She had to press herself against the Burrow to remember she was safe, and so she could focus on the next bit of the article.

****

_“Kinney came to our country from America attempting to kidnap American refugees. Whether the bombing was in retaliation to Fudge’s refusal to hand the children over, or the children were simply an excuse to get into the country to conduct his terror, is yet unknown. Regardless, the Ministry allowed Kinney to escape and as a result Kinney killed thirty people, including children, and very nearly yours truly._

_Now at the time, it was thought the Ministry pinned the blame on Sirius Black to distract from their failure with Solomon Kinney. They then focused exclusively on attempting to find Sirius Black. They even went so far as to claim that it was Kinney who helped Black escape in the first place. They also issued a proclamation permitting the Dementors of Azkaban to perform the Kiss upon Black on sight. Everything the Ministry did was to convince us all that Black was the real threat. Was this a mark of how dangerous Sirius Black is? Or, as this reporter discovered just last week, was the Ministry trying to silence Black from revealing the Ministry’s dark secret?”_

****

“What dark secret?” Percy said, interrupting again. “All records of the trials are publicly available.”

“Yes, all records of _trials_ are,” Daniel said, darkly.

_“What secret could that be? You may wonder. Only that in the wake of You-Know-Who’s fall, the Ministry sent dozens to Azkaban merely on the suspicion of having worked with You-Know-Who_ , without trial.

_That’s right, ladies and gentleman. Our Ministry sent dozens of its citizens to the world’s most secure prison without a trial to determine the truth of their innocence or guilt._

_As one member of the Wizengamot put it in an interview under conditions of anonymity:_

_‘It’s a travesty of justice! Sirius Black’s case, whether he’s found innocent or guilty, will shine a very bright light on this ugly chapter in our nation’s history! Ask yourself what is more likely: Black breaking out of prison to avenge a wizard who by all counts is dead, or Black breaking out of Azkaban to clear his name and seek justice?’”_

“I wonder who that could have been?” Mr Weasley asked, thoughtfully.

“No idea,” Daniel muttered.

“Knowing Skeeter, it was someone deep inside her own imagination,” Remus said darkly.

****

_“So as we can see, clearly not all members of Magical Britain’s highest court are toeing the Ministry’s line. And who can blame them, when even the Girl Who Lived, Harriet Potter, has given testimony proclaiming Black’s innocence? In fact, it has recently been made clear in a Ministry hearing, not only was Sirius Black childhood friends with Miss Potter’s own father, but he was also made her godfather after her birth. At least according to one her friends who witnessed the events the night Sirius escaped the Dementor’s Kiss when her testimony was questioned by the Minister’s Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge._

_‘Well I mean, Sirius is her godfather, isn’t he? He was right there with the Potters the whole time! What was the point of becoming a spy when the Potters would have just let him in if he knocked? Unless they made someone else their Secret-Keeper?’_

_Similar notions are being suggested by leaders of our educational behemoths. It is clear, whatever the verdict, that more people are aware of the Ministry’s shortcomings than it expects._

_‘I know many people who seemed innocent turned out to be vile monsters in that time,’ says a senior faculty member at Rathlin School of the Arts (and Magic). ‘But it’s time we accept that such was the exception, not the rule. There are far too many inconsistencies in the Sirius Black case. His actions surrounding his break-ins at Hogwarts over the last year, for instance. But more of that will come out in the trial-proper.’”_

“Crafty blighter,” Daniel said. There was another pause and Harriet wondered if Daniel was referring to Professor Sherrod Howe. Before she could muse further, Remus reopened the conversation.

“Well, I’m far from Skeeter’s biggest fan, but if there was someone to have on our side in swaying public opinion in Sirius’ favour…” Remus mused.

Charlie chuckled. “ _Senior faculty member at Rathlin_ … my foot.”

“Well, Howe does fit that description,” Mr Weasley said.

“Typical Skeeter,” Mr Weasleysaid. “Either way.”

“Bit more typical than usual,” Charlie said. “She’s never been a big fan of the Ministry, but…”

“By the sounds of it, Skeeter’s still smarting a bit after nearly being killed by a real mass murderer the Ministry let escape,” Remus said shrewdly.

“Pretty much,” Daniel said. “Which works for us at the moment.”

“Now, now,” Percy said. “We can’t blame the entire Ministry for the failings of one Auror.”

“The difficulty will come if she gets bored with this kind of attack,” Remus said. “She’ll change her tune in an instant if she thinks there’s more money in going against Sirius.”

Behind her, Harriet could hear the laugher of her friends. It was the Tuesday evening after Harriet’s birthday, and Ginny was teaching them a game she learned from Rayne Prismere called Capture the Flag. It was one of the reasons Harriet was under the window in the first place.

Her objective, along with Ginny, Dora, Hermione, and Luna, was to protect their flag from be taken by the boys: Fred, George, Kieran, Scott and Marcus – while also searching for and successfully taking the boy’s flag from their territory (the back garden and Quidditch paddock) to the girl’s territory (the front gardens to mid-back). The first team to capture the other’s flag won.

Harriet had been tasked with keeping an eye out for the boys sneaking into their territory to attempt to capture them and put them in “jail.” Jail in this game came when a player entered the other team’s territory and got tagged. Once in jail, players could be rescued by one of their own team members making it to the jail and hooking an arm in theirs. They could then walk back to their own side with immunity but could not go after the flag.

This was the reason Harriet hiding in the bushes under the kitchen window which allowed her to see people before they saw her, enabling her to make quick ambush attacks on any boys who snuck past her. And, she had to admit to herself, so she could eavesdrop on what Daniel, Mr. Weasley, Remus, Percy, and Charlie were talking about in the kitchen.

Daniel and Remus had showed up after work with the newest copy of _The Daily Prophet_ to discuss the article with Mr Weasley. Mr and Mrs Weasley had summarily sent the kids “outside to play.”

“Hello.”

Harriet jumped. Luna was crouched next to her. Harriet hadn’t heard her approach.

“Oh, hi Luna, any sign?” Harriet asked, whispering as quietly as she could.

Luna shook her head, and whispered back. “No, Dora wants to see you. She has a plan.”

“Okay,” Harriet said and slowly the two girls snuck out of the bushes and over towards their headquarters behind the broom shed. Dora and Ginny were already there, looking grave.

“Bad news…” Dora said.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“They got Hermione,” Ginny replied.

“How’d that happen?” Harriet asked.

“Sent her on a reconnaissance mission. Figured since she’s started into lacrosse she’d be a bit quicker and lighter on her feet than she usually is,” Dora grumbled.

Harriet blinked. “How do you two know about that?”

Ginny and Dora both gave Harriet the same exasperated look. “Harriet, she’s my sister, and I love her to death, but we’re not all as thick as Ronnie can be sometimes,” Ginny said.

“Hey,” Dora spat. “She’s not thick, she’s naïve.”

Harriet snorted. “You’re sticking up for Ronnie?” she asked.

“I’m not sure calling someone naïve counts as sticking up for someone,” Luna said, examining a butterfly that had settled on her knee.

“Look, that’s not important right now,” Dora said. “The fact is, we need to do something bold to get the flag. Even if she got caught, Hermione’s our fastest runner and our best planner. But I have a plan of my own. I’m really sure that the flag is hidden at the far end of the paddock. Two of us are going to need to go after Hermione, and two of us are going to need to go after the flag.”

“Why not all of us go after the flag though?” Ginny asked.

“Well, we will, but I’m trying to think like Ronnie playing Wizard Chess,” Dora said. “Remember Harriet, when we were going through the trials under the school? Ronnie sacrificed herself on the chess board.”

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Harriet said.

“Well, one of us is going to need to sacrifice herself,” Dora said. “So, I’m going to sacrifice myself.”

“What?” Ginny asked.

“You’re going to let them catch you while Harriet frees Hermione and keeps the boys distracted while Ginny and I, as the smallest and quietest, make a move on the flag. After they get back to our side, Harriet and Hermione can make their own move on the flag if Ginny and I didn’t get it back,” Luna said, having coaxed the butterfly onto her forehead.

“Uh, yes,” Dora said, blinking.

Harriet processed this. Dora was taller and a faster runner than Harriet was, and a better planner. Harriet wasn’t sure that Dora for Hermione was the best trade. There was something else she thought she could use to their advantage.

“Well, how about this… what if… okay you know what? I need to be the bait.”

“What?” Ginny asked.

“The trade. Dora, you spring Hermione, and I’ll let myself get caught.”

“Why you?” Dora asked now.

“Well, I’m—well—me,” Harriet said. “Plus you’re faster than me, Dora.”

“Hmmm… well… that’s true…” Dora contemplated.

“We don’t have time to keep thinking about this,” Ginny said. “If we don’t make our move soon, the boys will instead. And this will leave our flag completely undefended until one of you gets back with Hermione.”

“Good point, okay Harriet. You get caught and I’ll spring Hermione,” Dora agreed.

Harriet grinned. They got up and snuck to the border of the boys’ territory. As they moved closer, Harriet’s mind and imagination began to whirl as it often did. Who would catch her? Would it be Fred? She remembered the summer before last, the way he’d scooped her up so easily over his shoulder. Or maybe Kieran, who despite his leg was getting quite strong in the arms. She had a fleeting vision of Fred as a swashbuckling pirate spiriting her away. Then another of herself as a cunning thief who’d been foiled by the equally cunning detective Kieran. Finally, another mini-fantasy came to her out of the blue, a figure dark and mysterious, hooded and shadowy, grabbing her and stealing her away on unknown adventures.

Harriet shook her head. Where were those coming from? So rapidly and all so vivid to her. She could practically feel the strong hands on her arms. And she shouldn’t be thinking about Kieran like that anyway, should she? He was her friend, wasn’t he?

“Okay,” Dora said as they reached the border. “On your marks…”

“Get set,” Harriet chimed in, coming back to herself.

Ginny grinned. “Go!”

## * * * *

By the following Friday, Harriet was having a hard time keeping any focus. She tried joining in games, but her enthusiasm was dwindling, even though the girls managed to win the first Capture the Flag game. Unfortunately, from Harriet’s point of view, she’d been caught by Scott instead.

Outside of games, all she could think about since Skeeter’s article came out was Sirius’ trial. Even though Remus had assured her later that things were looking up, Harriet felt so helpless and out of the loop that it was difficult to really believe any good news.

One thing that did cheer her up was when the owl post arrived that Friday with some exciting prizes for Marcus, and exciting news for the rest of them.

“I… I don’t believe it…” Marcus said as he read his letters. “I just don’t believe it!”

“Wha’s’at?” Ronnie asked through a mouthful of eggs.

“I-it’s…” Marcus held up two shiny tickets, one from each letter.

“Whoa,” Dora said leaning forward and reading them. “Australia versus Portugal and Netherlands versus Germany. Primo seats too. What are they for?”

“Because of Lockhart,” Marcus said, still staring at the letters. “For exposing the Wagga Wagga werewolf and that Dutch explorer who actually spent a year with Yetis.”

“Good on you, mate,” Kieran said smiling.

“But…” Marcus said running a hand through his hair. “It’s just a ticket for me…”

“Don’t be absurd, Marcus,” Hermione said. “You have to accept. They don’t just give those tickets out to anyone; and if anyone has something to be proud of it’s you for bringing that charlatan to justice. Besides, we’ll all be going to the final together.”

Harriet and Ronnie exchanged an ever-suffering look. Ever since the truth came out about Lockhart, Hermione had been working extra hard to cover up the fact she’d been blind to most of his failings because of his good looks.

“Congratulations, dear,” Mrs Weasley said serving Marcus another helping of eggs and bacon.

Marcus blushed but finally allowed himself a small smile.

“Well,” Mrs Weasley said, setting down the large frying pan, “Arthur and I have some other good news for you all, too.”

Mr Weasley set down his _Daily Prophet_ and grinned. “Yes, indeed.”

“What’s that?” Ronnie asked.

“Well, all of us parents have been having a bit of a chin-wag and decided that you all should go on a bit of an adventure until the final in a couple weeks,” Mr Weasley said.

“Really?” Dora asked, interested.

“Yes, dear,” Mrs Weasley said. “So starting tomorrow, Hermione, your parents have invited you all to stay for a week.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide and excitement spread across her face. “Really? Oh goodness! I have so much to show you all! Where I grew up, where I played as a child!”

“You played?” Ronnie asked, sceptically.

Hermione glowered.

“And your mother says that she’s invited your cousin, Camille, to spend the week there as well.”

Hermione’s scowl vanished at once. “Ohmigosh, oh this is so wonderful! Oh you’ll all love Camille!”

“She’s the lacrosse player, right?” Harriet asked, giving Hermione a nudge with her foot under the table. She’d been on Hermione to finally come clean to Ronnie about her own interest in the sport since the Capture the Flag game.

“Y-yes,” Hermione said evasively, nudging Harriet back irritably.

“And after that, you’ll be going to Scott’s for the following week,” Mr Weasley said.

Scott didn’t say anything. They all turned to look at him and saw him deeply engrossed in a letter.

“Scott?” Ginny asked.

“Hm?” he asked looking up.

“How’s Atsuko?” Dora asked in a singsong.

“Oh, uh yeah,” he muttered, going bright red. “She’s fine. Wondering how the trial’s going.”

Harriet smiled a little. As with George and Erica now, and Percy and Penelope two summers ago, hardly a day had gone by this summer without Scott either receiving or sending a letter to Atsuko. Harriet had always thought there was something between Scott and Hermione. However, that changed a bit after Harriet had asked Kieran about it in private shortly after arriving at the Burrow. Kieran reminded Harriet that while Scott was fully engrossed in crazy ideas (at the time) about Sirius’ innocence, it had been Atsuko who stuck by Scott the whole time, believed him when she had no real reason to, and helped him with his own mini-investigation when no one else would.

“Well dear,” Mrs Weasley said. “After this coming week at Hermione’s home, the week after you’ll all be going back to your home.”

“Oh great,” Scott said, smiling broadly now. “Only Harriet’s gotten to see it besides Kieran!”

Mr Weasley chuckled. “And apparently you will be having several other ‘guests’ as well,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” Scott asked, curiously.

“Well, apparently now that Sirius is no longer a threat, the Ministry has returned its focus to Kinney, and decided that it’s no longer safe for the American students he was after to all be concentrated in one place, even if that one place is Hogwarts. So they’ve spread them out around the country for safety during the summer holidays,” Mr Weasley explained.

“Your parents agreed to take on ten, given the size of your home,” Mrs Weasley said. “Maybe some of them are your friends?”

Mrs Weasley picked up another letter and read. “Alee Jameson.”

Everyone stared.

“Alee Jameson, who’s that?” Dora asked.

“No idea,” Kieran said.

“Wasn’t there a Nate Jameson? In Hufflepuff?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yeah,” Scott said. “Wonder if he has a little sister.”

Mrs Weasley continued. “Rachel Kane.”

“Omigosh, Rachel!” Hermione squealed in delight.

“Jackson Lee.”

“Jackson!” Kieran and Marcus said, exchanging a high-five.

“Sisters it seems, Taylor and Toni Middleton.”

“Oh yeah, Toni’s in my house, a year behind us,” Scott said. “Her sister’s in Hufflepuff a year ahead of us.”

“Isn’t Toni the one that boy Hyland, who works with Daniel, fancies?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Scott said.

“Ari Miller.”

“She’s another Hufflepuff,” Kieran said.

“Erica Quoy,” Mrs Weasley said giving George a knowing smile.

“Erica!” Harriet said excitedly.

There was a spluttering as George choked on a piece of bacon. Fred slapped him hard on the back.

“Yes, and the McIntyres say you’re invited for a day to take Erica into the village for a date,” Mrs Weasley said before her eyebrows furrowed. “But _only_ for the day, George.”

“Yeah, yeah,” George muttered, ignoring his mother’s stern look.

“Now, Molly,” Mr Weasley said.

Mrs Weasley returned her attention to the letter, ignoring Mr Weasley in turn. “Peyton Shane.”

“That’ll be interesting,” Marcus said.

“She was the one who made us “honorary refugees,” right?” Dora asked.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Kieran confirmed. “She always seemed a bit—”

“Prickly,” Dora said.

“Honorary refugees?” Ginny asked.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably. The topic of Ginny’s first year at Hogwarts was never a comfortable one.

“Yeah, for um… stopping Riddle and the Basilisk and clearing their names…” Harriet said awkwardly.

“Oh…” Ginny said, poking at her eggs distractedly.

“Danielle Waterman.”

The group all gave each other very uncomfortable looks at this as another awkward memory of their second year came back. Danielle had been one of the Slytherin girls they had attempted to impersonate to interrogate Draco Malfoy using Polyjuice Potion. By an unfortunate circumstance, their inside person, Kenley Tyler, had accidentally taken a hair from Danielle’s cat, not Danielle herself, as a result Hermione had spent several weeks in the hospital wing having been turned into half a cat. She’d blamed Kenley for the incident for weeks until Kenley, and eventually Hermione herself, were petrified.

“Kelly Werner.”

Ronnie groaned at this name.

“Oh hush, you love playing Wizard Chess with her,” Hermione chastened, but smiled.

“Yeah…” Ronnie mumbled but smiled.

“Well still, that’ll be lots of fun, too,” Hermione said cheerfully.

“Yeah…” Ginny muttered.

“Oh yes, Ginny dear,” Mrs Weasley said smiling. “I should also mention that Mr Lovegood generously offered for you to go spend next week at his home with Luna, and then the following week Luna will be coming to stay with us.” Ginny beamed instantly.

## * * * *

They were half-way into their first day at Hermione’s. Harriet quite liked Hermione’s house, despite how similar it looked to the Dursley’s. Harriet also found she was growing fond of Mr and Mrs Granger. Harriet had to remind herself, that aside from looks it was the feel of a home that was most important, and this certainly didn’t feel like the Dursley’s at all.

This was mostly because everyone smiled all the time. It was also a bit of an adventure, as Mrs Weasley had said, because instead of sleeping indoors, everyone was camped out in two muggle tents in the back garden. They spent the first night sitting around a torch telling scary stories.

Hermione’s bedroom was not what Harriet had expected from what she knew of Hermione at Hogwarts. She had somehow expected Hermione’s room to be spotless and organized. The main colour scheme was light blue walls with purple décor. She had several paintings of flowers and a single-bed with light-blue bedspread. She had a desk right under the window and several bookshelves full of both muggle and magical books.

What caught Harriet’s attention most was the poster board of photographs. Some were magical, moving pictures of all of them at Hogwarts. But others were stationary, muggle pictures of Hermione before Hogwarts. Almost all of these featured Hermione and a girl Harriet had never seen before. The girl was very pretty for the ages the two were in the photographs, and somehow even in the pictures of her with missing baby teeth, the other girl’s smiles seemed warm and radiant. Harriet puzzled as she noted that the pictures had years on them, and there were no pictures of Hermione and the other girl more recent than nineteen eighty-nine, two years before they had started at Hogwarts.

“Who’s this?” Harriet asked.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “That’s my old friend, Fern.”

Hermione crossed over from where she’d been showing Scott something to look at the board with Harriet. “She was my best friend until we were nine, and then she moved away to Paris with her mum.”

Harriet nodded. Something about the pained look on Hermione’s face told her that it probably wasn’t a good idea to push the subject further.

“Everyone ready?” Mr Granger called from down the stairs. “Camille’s flight’s due in an hour.”

They headed down and piled into the van Mr Granger had rented for the week. Hermione seemed as though she could barely contain her excitement the whole way. Now as they waited outside the terminal, Hermione was pacing back and forth, flustered. Camille’s flight was due to arrive any minute. Security was everywhere. According to Mr Granger, only last March, several bombs had gone off on one of the airport’s runways, but no one had been hurt.

“It’s going to be fine,” Dora said.

“I know but…” Hermione paced more. She froze looking around as the large group of passengers came walking towards them and gasped. “She’s here!”

Everyone looked around and Hermione hurried off excitedly into the group. She emerged a moment later, beaming and laughing, walking arm in arm with another girl.

Harriet blinked twice. If she didn’t know better, there were two Hermione’s walking towards them. One with bushy hair, prominent front teeth, and dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans. The second had her hair done in a short pixie cut, and was wearing a comfortable looking short-sleeved eyelet top and lavender jeans. By the looks on everyone’s faces, Harriet wasn’t the only one who was stunned at the resemblance.

“Bonjour!” Camille said cheerfully as she and Hermione reached the group.

“H-Hi,” Marcus said, still a bit transfixed. Kieran elbowed him.

Mr and Mrs Granger hugged Camille before making introductions. Harriet was slowly grounded by the realization that however much Camille looked like Hermione, she certainly did not act like her. She was much more outgoing, and Harriet flushed, when in greeting Camille leaned in and touched a cheek to each of Harriet’s and gave the air a little kiss with each touch. Harriet noted that her accent was not as thick as Mr Flamel’s.

“So, you all go to Hogwarts?” she asked, smiling as they moved to the cars.

“Oui,” Dora replied. “Nous sommes en quatrième année.”

Camille looked very excited. “Tu parles français?”

“Uh, what?” Ronnie asked.

Dora rolled her eyes. “I said we’re in our fourth year.”

“Oh,” Ronnie muttered, then tilted her head. “Wait, when did you learn French?”

Dora gave Ronnie an exasperated look. “My _dad_ is French!”

“Oh yeah,” Ronnie said looking very embarrassed now.

“You are Ronnie, non?” Camille asked. “You are the one who enjoys football? Hermione writes about you all the time.”

“Oh, y-yeah,” Ronnie replied. “This is my third year since I started.”

“It is a wonderful sport. Too bad the magical world is not more open to Muggle sport.”

“Do you play?” Marcus asked, interested.

“Non. Well, as a little girl I did play, but now in the summers I play lacrosse. You?”

“Oh yeah,” he said smiling. “In fact, I’m leading a sort of initiative at our school to get Muggle sports like football and lacrosse into Hogwarts. Just Quidditch is a bit boring isn’t it?”

“Hey!” Harriet and Dora spat.

Marcus rolled his eyes. “I like Quidditch, I just like playing other sports more.”

Ronnie paused and looked at Hermione. “Weren’t you saying something about lacrosse last year?”

“Oh, y-yeah,” Hermione said, awkwardly.

“Hmmm, imagine that,” Camille said, giving Hermione a knowing glance.

## * * * *

“So, this is lacrosse?” Ronnie asked as they sat in the small metal bleachers next to the pitch.

It was halfway through their week at Hermione’s. Camille had seen an advertisement for a local lacrosse meet-up and fun match at a nearby park and asked if they would like to go and see what the sport was all about. Everyone agreed, with the exception of Marcus, who had gone with his dad to see the first of the two matches he’d been invited to.

“Why did no one tell me about this sport before?” Dora asked as the girls stretched and practiced getting ready for the match to commence.

Kieran chuckled and bumped Dora’s shoulder. Dora rolled her eyes and bumped his back.

“Where’s Hermione?” Ronnie asked.

“Uh, said she had to help Camille change,” Scott said, evasively.

Ronnie raised an eyebrow. “What’s so involved about those kits you need help getting into them?”

Dora gave Harriet a little look. She tossed her shoulder length hair and gave Harriet a little smile as she leaned back on the bench behind them and stretched out her legs on the bench in front of them.

“Whatcha think? Could I pull off one of those kits?” Dora asked Harriet, nodding to the girls on the pitch.

As it was an informal match, there was no real uniformity to the kits. The general theme was sleeveless tops, athletic skorts of varying styles and colours, athletic socks, and trainers.

Harriet looked Dora up and down and tried to imagine her in such an outfit. However, the way Dora was reclining, her legs stretched out straight in front of her and held together and her arms behind her back, put Harriet in mind of something else. Unbidden, she imagined ropes around Dora’s hands, ankles, and knees, and a tight band of cloth over her mouth. Harriet blinked and felt herself blush furiously in spite of her best efforts. She suddenly felt, for want of a better word, very odd all over.

“Y-yeah, I think so,” Harriet said.

Dora’s grin widened and she turned her attention back to the pitch. Ronnie, meanwhile, was looking at the pitch with mounting dislike.

“Hmph, you playing a sport like that? Sure your daddy would let you play rough and tumble muggle sports? Might put a hair out of place,” she said, with more than a hint of bitterness in her tone.

Dora turned and looked at Ronnie. For the first time ever that Harriet could remember, Dora looked genuinely speechless.

Dora opened her mouth to retort, but didn’t get a chance. Kieran pointed and distracted everyone. “Here comes Camille, and Hermione.”

Everyone looked. Camille and Hermione were walking out onto the pitch, both wearing matching lacrosse kits and carrying sticks. Harriet stole a glance at Ronnie. Ronnie looked as though someone had punched her.

“Hermione’s… playing?” she asked.

“Well yeah,” Dora snapped, bitterly. “Last one crosses the finish line there.”

Ronnie winced and looked uncharacteristically ashamed of herself. Kieran and Harriet both scowled at Dora.

“Dora!” Harriet snapped and gave Dora’s shoulder a little backhand.

Dora finally looked a little apologetic and grimaced.

“Sorry, Ronnie,” she said.

Ronnie looked as though she was going to say something but instead sighed and returned her attention to the pitch, watching Camille and Hermione begin to practice.

“She’s good…” Ronnie said quietly as the two practiced.

“Yeah, she is,” Scott said, giving Ronnie a sympathetic look.

Harriet didn’t say anything. The thoughts that had gone through her mind after Dora had asked her how she’d look in a lacrosse kit were still there, and she was trying desperately to push them out. If for nothing else than to make the odd sensation that seemed to flow from her middle to her knees and back go away.

“How come she never told me?” Ronnie asked. She looked around the group. “She clearly told all of you.”

Harriet sighed and finally spoke up. “She didn’t want you to know because she thought you’d make fun of her.”

“Oh…” Ronnie said.

Harriet grimaced, feeling even worse now for making Ronnie feel worse.

“I think they’re about to start,” Kieran said.

The girls were all heading over to the referees who were handing out coloured mesh tops. Hermione and Camille both came away with red tops, the other team in yellow.

“Hah, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff,” Scott pointed out.

Harriet and Kieran laughed. Even Dora and Ronnie broke little smiles. They settled in to watch as the referee finally blew the whistle.

## * * * *

Thursday and Friday were quite pleasant, except for Dora and Ronnie who were still acting very cool towards each other. Hermione didn’t seem to notice. Ronnie had been quite complimentary to her on her talents at lacrosse and of lacrosse in general, which put Hermione in a very good mood.

Marcus returned late Thursday night. Now it was Friday afternoon and they were lounging in the back garden, watching clouds pass over head while Marcus filled them in. It made Harriet even more excited than she already was for the final match on the twenty-second.

“Yeah, Australia still lost, but I’m more excited for the Netherlands match next week,” he said smiling.

“Family heritage thing?” Dora asked.

“Only a little,” Marcus chuckled.

“Mmmmm we should get our swimsuits out,” Dora said as a warm ray of sunshine fell over them.

“Ohhhh d’accord,” Camille said.

“Ugh, I’d burn in an instant,” Ronnie said. “I’m probably sunburned already…”

“Well, some of us didn’t have swimsuits to pack,” Harriet admitted awkwardly.

“I have a couple you could borrow,” Hermione said.

“A couple?” Ronnie laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Just then, there was a soft chiming noise.

“I think that was your doorbell,” Scott said, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Strange…” Hermione said, nervously. They were home alone at the moment, Mr and Mrs Granger were at work.

There was another soft chime, and then another.

“Maybe it’s a package…?” Kieran asked.

They slowly got up. The bell rang a fourth time. “Someone’s kinda insistent,” Kieran said.

“Well, let’s all go as a group,” Dora said. “And we all have our wands. If it’s a burglar or something there are provisions in the restrictions on underage magic or whatever for using magic if we’re in danger.”

“Good point,” Marcus said.

They all drew their wands and headed into the house. The doorbell rang again as Marcus moved into the sitting room and peeked out the window which afforded a clear view of the front door.

“It’s a girl… looks our age…” he trailed off. “Wow…”

“What?” Hermione asked.

Hermione stepped up behind Marcus and peeked out too. She gasped and actually dropped her wand before she spun and ran to the front door. She fumbled with the locks in her haste and flung the door open.

“Fern?!” Harriet heard Hermione ask from the doorway.

“H-hi,” Harriet heard the new-comer reply.

Harriet stepped back into the entry way. She saw at once why Marcus had said “wow.” The girl was very pretty, despite seeming a bit dishevelled. Her hair was dark brown, very straight, cut in a short bob with a thick row of fringe that came down to her eyebrows. Her eyes were blue, she had a very straight, button nose, and her lips seemed naturally disposed to smile.

The rest of the girl was very thin, and she was dressed in a silky white blouse, black flared skirt that looked to be leather and silver high heeled sandals. Harriet blinked. She didn’t know much, but that certainly didn’t seem an outfit a girl their age just walked around in. Harriet glanced at the rest. Everyone else looked just as dumbfounded as Harriet felt, with the exception of Kieran. While everyone else was taking in the girl’s clothes and figure, Kieran was looking her right in the eyes as though she was a ghost.

“Fern…” Hermione said. “What… what are you doing here…? Why are you…?”

It clicked to Harriet now. This must be Fern, Hermione’s long lost best friend.

Fern smiled. “Well, I was back in town visiting dad and decided to see if you still lived here.”

“Dressed like that?” Ronnie asked.

Fern looked down at herself. “Oh yeah, I just got in from the plane and dropped my stuff off at the house and hurried over.”

Fern looked around the street and smiled. “Has it only been five years…?”

Scott, Marcus, Harriet, and Dora all exchanged a look. There was clearly something fishy about Fern’s story, but Harriet couldn’t put her finger on it. Hermione however didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she rushed forward and hugged Fern as tightly as she could.

“I… I thought I’d never see you again,” Hermione said softly, still sounding shocked.

“Me… me either…” Fern said and finally hugged Hermione back. Fern’s composure broke a little and she hugged Hermione tighter.

“Maybe… maybe we should give you two a moment?” Dora suggested.

“Uh, good idea,” Marcus said.

The rest of the group all turned to make their way back out into the garden, except Kieran. He was still looking at Fern as though he’d been turned to stone.

Scott grabbed Kieran’s arm and began pulling him away. Kieran came to his senses and suddenly looked quite embarrassed as he followed the rest.

“Are you alright, mate?” Marcus asked Kieran, studying him closely.

“I’ve seen her before… I know it… but I can’t think of where!” Kieran said. Harriet was now reminded of Scott’s manic moments while trying to figure out the truth behind Sirius’ actions the previous year.

“Who the hell is she?” Dora asked, looking sceptical. “Just shows up out of the blue with that story?”

“Well,” Harriet said, remembering. “Hermione said earlier this week that she and Fern were friends until they were nine, and then Fern moved away to Paris with her mum.”

“Only her mum?” Marcus asked.

“I think so.”

“But, she’s here, visiting her dad?” Marcus was looking back at the house, concerned.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

“Guys, I don’t think she’s visiting her dad,” Marcus said shrewdly. “I think she ran away…”

“From Paris?” Dora asked, sceptically.

“She is old enough to fly on her own,” Camille chimed in. “I did.”

Camille hugged her chest, rubbing her upper arms. “Hermione used to write about Fern all the time when we were little and we would send each other letters. They were inseparable. It tore Hermione up inside when Fern had to leave. None of her letters were the same again until…” Camille trailed off, giving them all a little smile. “Until she met you.”

They sat on the big blanket. It was then that Scott paused and lifted up his wand.

“Harriet?”

“Yeah?”

“How old was Fern when she moved away, did Hermione say?”

“Um… nine I think?”

Scott didn’t answer right away.

“Why?” Dora asked.

“Did Hermione ever say anything about Fern being—you know—magical?”

“I don’t think so…” Harriet said. “She’s never really mentioned her at all until now.”

“No… that’s weird…” Ronnie said.

“Non, she never said anything to me about it,” Camille said.

Scott contemplated more. “I… I think Fern’s a witch.”

“What makes you think that?” Kieran asked.

“Who else would see a bunch of people meeting her at the door all holding strange looking wooden sticks and not question it at all?”

“Well… I do not know about that. But maybe we should probably put them all away just in case?” Camille said cautiously.

There was general murmurs of assent and everyone stuck their wands back in their pockets. Harriet was suddenly feeling worried. If Fern was a muggle, and she discovered their wands, that would be a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. That would mean the Ministry would turn up. And if the Ministry turned up, they would probably turn Fern over.

The door to the house finally opened and Hermione and Fern came out. Harriet noted that Fern was now wearing one of Hermione’s t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. She had also washed off a great deal of make-up and eye-liner, and now looked much more like a normal, teenage girl. In fact she seemed much more at ease dressed like this than before.

“Sorry for barging in on everyone like that,” Fern said.

“It’s okay,” Marcus said.

“So, Fern, these are my friends from school, who’re visiting for the summer, plus my cousin Camille,” Hermione said smiling.

Fern smiled more as she looked at Camille.

“Nice to meet you finally,” Fern said.

“You as well,” Camille replied cheerfully.

“Hermione used to talk about you _all_ the time, how jealous she was that you were living in France.”

Camille laughed. “Oh, did she?” she asked giving Hermione another sly look.

Hermione blushed and stuck out her tongue at Camille.

“Well, you were the one who I always got to hear about in every letter,” Camille said. “So there is that.”

“And this is Kieran O’Brien, Scott McIntyre, Marcus Van Der Lakk, Dora Flamel, Ronnie Weasley, and Harriet Potter.”

It happened in an instant. Harriet, who was used to this, spotted it at once. For the briefest of moments, Fern’s eyes widened at the sound of Harriet’s name. The clear sign of recognition. The little look that everyone in the magical world got when they heard Harriet’s name. So it seemed Scott was on to something. No Muggle who Harriet had ever met had that same look.

“Nice to meet you all,” Fern said. She now sounded totally casual. “I’m Fern, Fern Mantovani.”

“Nice to meet you too, Fern,” Ronnie said.

“Just wait till Mum and Dad get home,” Hermione said, beaming.

“Oh, how soon will they be home?” Fern asked.

“Oh another hour or so,” Hermione said.

“Ah, okay,” Fern said. “I mean I don’t want to impose.”

“Oh nonsense,” Hermione said. “They’ll love to see you again!”

“Well, I did miss them a lot too,” Fern said brushing back some of her hair.

“So how come you moved to Paris?” Ronnie asked.

“Mum’s work,” Fern said quickly. “She’s a fashion consultant.”

“Fashion consultant?” Ronnie asked.

“Yeah, she goes along to photo-shoots, makes sure the photographers and such are doing their job, makes sure the costuming is correct, stuff like that.”

“That sounds more like an agent,” Dora said, her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, yeah, well they’re not totally dissimilar,” Fern said quickly.

“So where do you go to school?” Marcus asked.

“Oh, just a little arts school,” Fern said. She started to explain more when there was the sound of someone calling Hermione’s name.

“Oh, sounds like Mum’s home early!” Hermione said.

She got up eagerly and was heading up towards the house when Hermione’s mother appeared in the doorway. She had a very grim expression on her face.

“Mum?” Hermione asked. “Something wrong?”

Mrs Granger sighed. “Oh Hermione dear, it’s about your old friend, Fern.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

Harriet and the rest turned and looked at Fern, who had a look of horror on her face.

“We just had a call from her mother. Apparently Fern has gone missing,” Mrs Granger said. “Her mother says that Fern was supposed to be in London for a photo-shoot this weekend but apparently Fern stole the tickets and her mother’s credit card and ran away to the airport. They don’t know if her father’s involved yet but the police have been to his house and said there was no sign of her being there.”

“…Missing…” Hermione said.

Everyone was continuing to stare at Fern. Fern’s face was frozen, but her whole body was trembling. “Yes, so her mother called us just in case…”

Mrs Granger trailed off as she finally saw Fern in their midst.

“Fern!” Mrs Granger exclaimed hurrying over. “What on earth are you doing here?! Do you have any idea how worried your mother is?”

Fern didn’t respond. She was trembling head to toe now, hugging her legs tight to her chest.

“…Fern…?” Mrs Granger asked, her expression was softening rapidly. “Fern, sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“Can’t go back,” Fern said shaking her head. “Can’t… not going…”

“But, Fern dear, it’s your mother…”

“Don’t care. Not going,” Fern said, shaking her head more. She was starting to rock.

Mrs Granger knelt and took Fern’s hands. “Come on, love. Let’s… let’s get you inside and get you some tea, okay?”

“Can’t take it anymore,” Fern said. She choked back a sob.

Mrs Granger pulled Fern up to her feet. Fern didn’t resist, but she didn’t seem like she was just going along with it either.

“I’m not her stupid doll,” Fern said as Mrs Granger guided Fern towards the house.

She didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone in particular, it was as though all the thoughts in her head were tumbling out of her mouth at once. Her voice had regressed too by the sound of it. Her voice had become higher pitched and nasally. If Harriet hadn’t seen Fern speaking, she would have sworn it was an eight or nine year old girl speaking instead.

“Keep your stupid poise… your stupid make-up and your stupid stories about your stupid missed stupid oppor-stupid-tunities…”

“It’s okay dear,” Mrs Granger kept saying, holding Fern tight to her side.

Hermione meanwhile, stood frozen in place as she watched her mother guide her childhood best friend up the stairs and back into the house.

“Hermione…?” Marcus asked.

Hermione didn’t move.

“Hermione…?” Ronnie asked now.

Harriet got up and moved towards her friend. Hermione didn’t turn, even when Harriet put a hand on her shoulder. Harriet stepped in front of Hermione and was shocked at what she saw. Hermione’s face wasn’t shocked, or sad, as Harriet expected. Instead, her face was full of an anger that Harriet had never seen before.

“Hermione?” Harriet asked.

Hermione didn’t look at her but her hands clenched into fists. “I’ll get her for this… I’ll get her…”

“Get who?” Dora asked.

Hermione snorted with anger. “Her. She took Fern away. I’ll get her mother for this… if it’s the last thing I do… She’ll pay for what she’s done to my friend…”


	6. Back to the Manor

“It is one of life’s great conundrums. How can we trust ourselves, if we cannot trust our friends? And how can our friends trust us, if we can’t trust ourselves?”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet was floating. The room was warm and dark. The only light and sound was coming from a nearby crackling fireplace. She was drifting in the air, high above the scene below, inches from the ceiling, not a care in the world.

“There is a bit more in the bottle, My Lord, if you’re still hungry?”

Harriet jumped. She’d been vaguely aware of someone speaking before, but now she felt her attention being irresistibly drawn to the conversation below.

“Later,” said another voice.

The two voices were distinct. One was timid, squeaky, and fearful. The other was also high-pitched, but it was forceful and commanding, and made the hairs on Harriet’s neck tingle.

She slowly turned over in the air. There was a reedy, thin little man with loose skin and odd balding patches. Harriet felt a twinge of rage and shock at the sight. It was Pettigrew.

“Move me closer to the fire, Wormtail,” commanded the second voice.

Harriet knew that voice as well. Yet, she couldn’t place it. It was as if her mind was purposefully blocking out the source. Whatever rage she’d felt at seeing Wormtail again, it was immediately replaced by cold fear.

Wormtail stepped forward and pushed the big arm chair closer to the fire. The voice must have come from there, but Harriet couldn’t see the speaker.

“Where is Nagini?” asked the cold voice.

“I—I don’t know, My Lord. She set out to explore the house, I think.”

“You will milk her before we retire, Wormtail. I will need feeding during the night. The journey has tired me greatly.”

Harriet shivered. She wanted to leave. She wanted to run away. But she was stuck. Trapped, floating in mid-air over the terrible scene below.

“My Lord, may I ask how long we are going to stay here?”

Harriet gasped, and immediately clamped her mouth shut. However, no one seemed to hear her. She knew that voice now. She knew who it was. Wormtail was speaking with Lord Voldemort. But it couldn’t be; it just couldn’t be.

“A week, perhaps longer. The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet. It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.”

“The—the Quidditch World Cup, My Lord? Forgive me, but – I do not understand – why should we wait until the World Cup is over?”

Harriet struggled. She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Her scar was beginning to prickle. She had to wake up. She wanted to wake up.

“Because, fool, at this very moment wizards are pouring into the country from all over the world, and every meddler from the Ministry will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double checking identities. Furthermore, there is still that inconvenient bomber on the loose, you tell me.”

“Yes, Kinney, My Lord, Solomon Kinney.”

“Yes… Kinney… under any other circumstance he could prove a useful ally, but now he has the Ministry even more on edge than they would normally be. They will expect him to make a move at the World Cup. Until that is finally over, we cannot risk anything that might expose us. And so, we must wait.”

Harriet tried to move herself further. She was still stuck in place. Forced to continue listening in against her will. Voldemort had returned. She had to tell someone. She had to escape.

“Your Lordship is still determined then?”

“Certainly, I am determined, Wormtail.”

Voldemort’s voice had turned even more menacing now. Wormtail recoiled from the chair, as though Voldemort had struck him. He shuffled away, wringing his hands, thinking hard.

“It could be done without Harriet Potter, My Lord.”

Harriet froze at the sound of her name. Voldemort had something planned for her? To kill her?

“Without Harriet Potter? I see…”

“My Lord! I do not say this out of concern for the girl!” Wormtail squeaked. “The girl means nothing to me! Nothing at all! It is merely that if we were to use another witch or wizard – any witch or wizard – it could be done so much more quickly! If you allowed me to leave you for a short while – you know I can disguise myself most effectively – I could be back in as little as two days with a suitable person!”

“FOOL!” Voldemort cried before breaking down into splutters and hacking coughs from the effort of the yell. “Did Bertha Jorkins’ final words mean nothing to you? Your old _friend_ Sirius Black has turned himself in and told the entire wizarding world that you are still alive.”

“But, but my Lord, who would believe—”

“Dumbledore would!” Voldemort hissed, his voice more hoarse than it was before. “Sherrod Howe, Johnathan Morrisey, that pathetic dog, Stratton… he’s rallied all of them to his side! You will remain here, by my side, until the task is complete! However grateful I am that you managed to find me and return me to this wretched form, I do not trust you the slightest to make decisions for yourself anymore. You were _lucky_ when you found Bertha Jorkins and brought her to me.”

A longsilence followed Voldemort’s reprimand. Wormtail was cowering in a corner now. He reminded Harriet of how he had looked as a rat, trapped inside the cage that Sirius had put him in.

“I have my reasons for using the girl…” Voldemort continued. “As I have explained to you. I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years… I can wait a few months longer. Yes, as you have pointed out, the girl is well protected. Far better than even she knows. But my plan will be effective, I am sure of it. All that will be required is a little more courage from you. And it is courage that you will find, lest you desire to feel my wrath!”

“Yes!” Wormtail squeaked. “Yes! I’m sorry My Lord, you are right as always, My Lord. But, My Lord, Bertha Jorkins disappearance will not go unnoticed for long! And if we proceed and I curse—”

“If?” Voldemort said cutting Wormtail off. “ _If?_ If you follow the plan, Wormtail, the Ministry will never need know that another person has disappeared. You will do it quietly and without fuss. Believe me, Wormtail, had I the option of doing it myself, I would. I’m not asking you to do it alone, however. By that time my _faithful_ servant will have re-joined us.”

“But I am a faithful servant!” Wormtail said, though he cringed, clearly regretting his boldness.

“I need someone with brains for this, Wormtail. Someone with cunning and talent and unwavering loyalty. You fulfil none of those requirements. As always, it was lucky chance and your complete devotion to your own wretched hide that led you to me.”

“But I brought—”

“You brought Bertha Jorkins to me because you had no other idea of what to do with her, Wormtail! You brought her to me hoping I would do what your cowardly, pitiful excuse for a Death Eater could not.”

“No, My Lord—”

“LIAR!” Voldemort cried. “Do not lie to me, Wormtail! Don’t ever lie to me! I can always tell! You knew she could not live having seen you, and yet you did not have the courage to do what was necessary yourself. It was I who surmised that she would have vital information we could use before disposing of her!”

There was another silence. Wormtail was pulling on his tufts of remaining hair. He looked on the verge of tears. Floating above, Harriet was too mesmerized to even want to escape anymore.

“However…” Voldemort continued. “Her information was valuable. Invaluable, even. And it would _not_ have been obtained if not for you, however ill-conceived. For that… you will have a reward, Wormtail. I will allow you to perform a task for me that is utterly essential. And one that many of my followers would give their right hands to perform.”

“Really? My Lord? What?” Wormtail asked. He looked torn between relief and worry.

“Now, now, Wormtail. No spoiling the surprise. Your task will be the final, and when done, you will have proved yourself even more useful than Bertha Jorkins.”

“Y-you mean, you’re going to kill me too!” Wormtail cringed again, his eyes manic. In that moment, Harriet felt another paralyzing pang of fear. Even when faced with the prospect of Lord Voldemort murdering him, Wormtail would not flee.

“Wormtail… Wormtail… why would I kill you? I only killed Bertha because she was utterly useless to me after my questioning. Just a shell of a person, mentally and physically. One could even call it an act of mercy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“But we… we… we could have modified her memory, My Lord?”

“Modified her memory?” Voldemort asked, his voice sneering. “But Memory Charms can be broken, Wormtail. As I proved when I broke through the charm someone else had placed upon her. It would be an insult to her _memory_ not to use the information I extracted from her.”

There was another pause. Wormtail managed to get to his feet once more, though his knees were shaky.

“One more curse… and my faithful servant hidden at Hogwarts… and Harriet Potter will be as good as mine. I will hear no more arguments, Wormtail. Shh… I hear Nagini. _Nagini? Is that you_?”

“ _Yes, my Looooooooooooord,”_ came a chilling, wicked voice. It was almost as horrible to hear as Lord Voldemort’s.

Harriet just barely stopped herself from crying out. A massive snake was sliding into the room. It had to be as long as Hagrid was tall. Harriet knew who the third chilling voice was. It was the snake, which Voldemort had called Nagini.

“ _My Loooooooooord,”_ Nagini hissed, slithering over to the chair that Lord Voldemort was in. “ _I bring news._ ”

“ _News?”_ Lord Voldemort asked. “ _Tell me_.”

“ _There is a muggle man outside the door listening to every word we say_ ,” Nagini hissed.

Harriet shivered, both from the shock that someone else had been listening, and from the malice that had come through the snake’s voice.

“Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail.”

“Indeed, My Lord? What?” Wormtail asked.

“Indeed yes, Wormtail. There is an old muggle man standing right outside this room listening to every word we say. His name is Mr Bryce. The gardener here. Please show him in, Wormtail.”

Wormtail crossed to the door and whipped it open. There was indeed an elderly man standing outside the room. He was dressed shabbily, wearing an old tweed jacket, shirt and trousers. He was leaning heavily on a walking stick.

For a fleeting moment, Mr. Bryce reminded Harriet of an elderly Kieran as he limped into the room. He looked like how Kieran had looked during their encounter with Aragog, had he been seventy years older, as he bent a mean eye on Wormtail and the back of Voldemort’s chair. The great snake, Nagini, was now curled up on the rug in front of the fire, her long forked tongue flicking in and out.

“You heard everything, Muggle?”

“What’s that you’re calling me?” the old man named Frank Bryce demanded.

“I am calling you a _Muggle_ ,” Voldemort said with cool impatience. “It means that you are not a wizard.”

“Well, I dunno what you mean by wizard,” Frank said. “All I know is I’ve heard enough to interest the police tonight, I have! You’ve done murder, and you’re planning more! And I’ll tell you this too! My wife knows I’m up here, and if I don’t come back—”

Voldemort gave an exasperated sigh. “You have no wife, Muggle. Nobody knows you are here, except the three of us in this room.”

Harriet gasped, then remembered that Voldemort must have been referring to Nagini. “Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle. For he knows… he always knows…”

“Oh, is that right?” Frank said.

Suddenly, Harriet’s scar began to burn. She clamped her hands to her forehead as it began to burn.

“Well I don’t think much of your manners, _My Lord_ ,” Frank said, sarcastically. “Turn around and face me like a man, why don’t you?”

Harriet was doing all she could to keep from screaming.

“Oh… but I am not a man, Muggle. I am much… much… more than a man.” Voldemort’s voice was barely a whisper. Harriet could feel the rage coming from the chair as if it was bolts of lightning.

“However… why not…? I will face you. Wormtail? Turn my chair around.”

Wormtail whimpered.

“Wormtail.”

Wormtail slowly approached the chair. He looked as though his every impulse was telling him to flee, but he kept moving forward. He placed his hands on either side of the chair and began to turn it. One of the legs caught the hearthrug where Nagini was lying and the snake hissed at him irritably.

And then, Harriet finally saw. The sight was so horrible that she finally did scream. And so did Frank Bryce. There was a jet of green light and at once, Harriet awoke.

## * * * *

Harriet panted as she stared at the ceiling of the room she shared with Hermione. Beside her, Hermione was sleeping soundly. Apparently, Harriet had not screamed in real life. One of her hands was still clutched to her forehead, however, which was still burning more painfully than Harriet had ever felt it.

Harriet clutched her chest, trying to get her heart to stop pounding. It felt as though she’d just run a marathon. She sat up slowly and put on her glasses.

She was back in the room she had slept in the previous summer at McIntyre Manor. She was sharing the room with Hermione, because the McIntyres had thought that Hermione would like the room’s history. Ronnie and Dora were sharing the room next to them. Neither had seemed terribly happy about it.

Harriet tried to remember the dream. It had been horrible, she knew that. It had seemed so real too, so real that even though Harriet felt as though she knew she was dreaming, she couldn’t wake up. Not until she saw the horrible thing in the chair. Whether it was her horror at the sight, or the pain in her scar, that finally woke her, Harriet didn’t know.

She pressed her face into her hands, trying to remember. There had been an old man. But his features were hazy now. All Harriet could remember was a flash of blinding green light and then waking up. Before that, Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about having killed someone. The name triggered something in her memory, but Harriet just couldn’t place it. Not only that, but they were planning on killing someone else. _Her_.

“Harriet?” Harriet jumped. Hermione had woken and was looking at her with sleepy eyed concern.

“What’s up?” Hermione asked, stretching.

“Nothing,” Harriet said, quicker than she’d intended. “Just a bad dream.”

“Oh no, what about?” Hermione asked.

“I… I don’t remember,” Harriet lied. She didn’t know why she wasn’t telling Hermione, but somehow she didn’t feel she could bear to tell anyone about that horrible vision or dream or whatever it was.

“What time is it?” Hermione asked.

Harriet leaned over and looked at the little clock on the bedside table. “Just past four in the morning,” Harriet replied.

“Mmmm… more sleep,” Hermione said, rolling back over.

Harriet looked at her friend’s bushy brown hair splayed over the pillow. They had been at the McIntyres for half a week already. Hermione had finally started to lighten up after the incident with Fern. She had been furious with her parents for calling the police to them about Fern. She hadn’t even said goodbye to them when they left for the McIntyres with Jess.

Harriet rubbed her forehead more. The pain was mostly gone. The thing that was troubling her the most was that the last time her scar had hurt like this, it had been because Lord Voldemort was at Hogwarts, hiding in the back of Quirrell’s head.

But he couldn’t be that close to her now, could he? Surely not. Not here in Glen Raglan.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Hermione asked. She was looking at Harriet again, sounding more awake.

“Yeah, fine,” Harriet said.

“Was it about the night your Aunt attacked you?” Hermione asked.

Harriet grimaced. She had never told any of her friends, except for Kieran, what had happened that night. Apparently, Kieran had been good to his word and kept the secret for her. Harriet had another flash of the image she’d had of Dora at the lacrosse match. How long could she possibly go keeping that secret from the rest?

She suddenly had an image of how Hermione must have looked having lost her best friend. And how she must have felt thinking that she had lost the rest of them as friends the previous year. _As long as it possibly takes_ , Harriet thought to herself.

_Freak!_

 

“Just try and get a bit more sleep,” Hermione said. “Or maybe ask Dobby to get you some warm milk?”

“Yeah… I think I will…” Harriet said.

She got out of bed and put her night-coat on. Harriet tried not to look too hurried as she bustled from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She didn’t head to the kitchen, however. Instead she headed up the stairs to where the owls were roosting.

She stopped in the little study she remembered from the previous year and sat, picking up a quill and some parchment. There was one person she needed to tell. One person who would listen. She began to write to Daniel.

 

_Dear Daniel,_

Harriet paused. What was she going to say? What could she say without sounding like a stupid, scared kid?

 _You are a stupid, scared kid_ , said a little voice in her brain and Harriet gave her head a shake, trying to shoo the thought away.

 

_Something weird happened tonight. I was sound asleep, and_

Harriet paused again. Should she mention the dream? _No_.

 

_I woke up and my scar was hurting. The thing is, last time it happened, it was because Lord Voldemort was near me. But he can’t be anywhere near me now, can he? Do curse scars sometimes still hurt years later?_

 

Harriet contemplated the letter some more.

 

_I’m doing okay otherwise. We’re at the McIntyres’ now. There hasn’t been any serious drama, not like my last letter about Hermione’s old friend Fern. Though it’s been… different._

_It’s weird having so many others here. Kieran, Scott and Marcus are staying at Kieran’s house with Jackson, while the rest of us girls are staying here at the McIntyres’. They don’t seem to like the idea of us sleeping under one roof together for some reason._

_Jackson apparently got in trouble with the O’Briens the week before. They found out he was sneaking down at night to sleep in the back yard with Epeius instead of sleeping in his room. Rachel was the one who talked him out of it, telling him it’s dangerous to be outside like that all alone with Kinney on the loose. Granted I think she’s pretty much the only person he’ll listen to. They still moved Epeius to stay with the unicorns instead, which I think is kind of dumb, but the parents said it was to “remove the temptation.”_

_The girls are really nice but you probably know them already. Peyton has calmed down a lot. She’s not as stuck up and prickly all the time. Erica’s great as ever. She and George went on a date and it was adorable to see him trying to act like a gentleman. Mostly I think they’re just happy getting to see something besides Hogwarts._

_I think I get on with Rachel the best still, but Toni’s a close second. I can see what Hyland likes in her. She’s really nice and really pretty. She reminds me a lot of Dora and Emma in a way. Probably mostly because Dora and Taylor are both older sisters but Emma and Toni are both way taller than them._

_Other than that, it’s kind of boring though. All the older girls ever want to do is relax and go sunbathing on the beach behind the house. I have to borrow one of Hermione’s old swimsuits when we do that. It didn’t fit right, but Dobby fixed that._

_I don’t know if I like sunbathing so much. It’s really boring just lying there. And_

Harriet paused in her writing. It seemed personal, but now that Harriet was letting things out it was hard to really stop.

 

 _I feel really awkward every time we do. It’s like every other girl, even Rachel, seem, well,_ bigger _than me, you know? Sorry you probably don’t want to hear that but I always feel so self-conscious around them. Around all of them, but especially Erica, Peyton, Ari, Taylor, and Danielle._

Harriet paused again. A couple other thoughts came to her that Harriet hadn’t been willing to talk about with her friends. Thoughts concerning some of the girls.

 

_I do have a couple questions, and I haven’t known how to ask anyone else here. But, Ari and Taylor seem to be a bit, well, more than friends. They hold hands all the time, and I saw them kissing. Like not on cheeks, like, on the lips. Like couples. Is that normal? They seem really sweet and nice, but I’ve never seen two girls acting like that before._

Harriet sighed taking a break and looking at the letter more. Why was she going on like that? None of it was relevant. But she didn’t know who else she was going to ask about any of this. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, as though she was judging. But it just left her feeling confused.

No, Harriet knew why it was making her uncomfortable. Particularly Ari and Taylor. It was because of how Dora had been acting around her lately. She would try and hold Harriet’s hand too from time to time as they went for walks. She always made sure she was sitting next to Harriet at the dinner table, or cuddled next to Harriet on the couch when they watched movies at the O’Briens’. She would jump on Harriet’s back when they were swimming. She’d also seemed annoyed that Hermione was picked to share a room with Harriet instead of her.

Even worse, Ronnie was getting progressively more irritable with Dora. And each time she did, it coincided with one of Dora’s attempts to be close to Harriet. Hermione said it was because they had to be in such close proximity and having to share a bed, but Harriet didn’t think so. She shook her head, returning the letter again. Part of her wished she could write to Sirius, but she wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable with him knowing. She didn’t even know if she was allowed to write to him. Somehow, Daniel seemed the right person to ask. ~~~~

_Also, I’m kind of curious about Alee Jameson. Everyone calls her Alee, and a girl and all that but… I think she’s actually a boy. She wears girl clothes and has long hair and wears makeup but, she looks just too much like Nate Jameson. And every time we go sunbathing or swimming, she never joins in. She just sits on the beach and reads wearing a shirt and shorts. Am I crazy? Everyone else seems so casual about it all and I just can’t make sense of it all. Am I being stupid? I think I am._

_Sorry for rambling like that. I just don’t know how to talk about all that with everyone else here. And I feel worse about that too._

_Anyway, sorry again. Tell Remus I miss him too and can’t wait to see you two again soon. Is there any chance you two can come to the World Cup too?_

_Lots of love,_

_Harriet_

That was alright, Harriet thought. Daniel would give her a good, understanding answer to all her questions. She knew it.

Harriet got to her feet again and headed up to the owls’ roost. She sighed, noting Hedwig wasn’t back yet. Harriet leaned on the ledge of the owls’ entrance. The sun was beginning to rise. They were going down to visit Epeius and the unicorn herd today. Harriet was very excited to see them all again. She remembered her patronus. She had yet to tell Jess about it. She’d tell her that later today.

Finally, Hedwig came flying back in. Harriet let her finish her dinner before tying Daniel’s letter to Hedwig’s leg and sending her off. Hedwig looked tired, but seemed to realize how upset Harriet was and set off at once. Harriet watched her out of sight, trying to process everything.

She’d just had a horrible dream about Lord Voldemort and Wormtail plotting to kill her and then murdering a defenceless old muggle man. There were two girls who seemed to be a couple, something she’d never seen before. Dora was starting to act the same way around Harriet. Every time she did, Ronnie got angry and would barely talk to anyone for hours.

Harriet sighed. Was anything going to go right this summer?

## * * * *

“Epeius!”

They had arrived at the field that the unicorns called home. Jackson had run out from the car toward the grassy expanse and shouted. At once, his equine best friend appeared in front of him, a streak of brown fur and a roar of thunder echoing across the plain.

“Miss me?” Jackson asked, laughing and stroking Epeius’ nose.

“Of course,” Epeius said. “I assume you missed me too.”

“Always,” Jackson laughed.

It occurred to Harriet that this was probably the longest that Jackson and Epeius had gone without seeing each other since they met. In spite of that, Jackson seemed to be the most relaxed that Harriet had ever seen him over the last half week. His style of dress had changed a bit as well. He was now dressing less western and more in line with the new grunge movement. He was currently wearing a black vest over a white t-shirt, blue-jeans and black boots.

“Hiya, Epeius!” Rachel said excitedly hurrying up to Epeius too.

The horse nickered and tossed his mane a bit in apparent happiness to see Rachel, lowering his head to allow Rachel to better stroke his long nose.

Just then, another thundering sound started. It was deeper, and louder than Epeius’ sharp thunderclaps. This one Harriet could feel through the ground. The unicorns were coming.

Kieran and Scott were giving everyone smug little smiles (which was an odd look for Kieran to wear) as the unicorns approached. Every other face was bright and wide-eyed with amazement and excitement. The older girls in particular, even Erica, had gone rather giggly. Rachel was positively bouncing up and down, clapping her hands.

Jackson was giving Rachel a soft smile. Harriet gave him a knowing smile back and he rolled his eyes. Harriet remembered the moment last year when Rachel had suffered another panic attack and Maranesa, the minotaur shaman, had told Jackson that he and Rachel were connected.

Apparently, Harriet wasn’t the only one to notice. Epeius actually nudged his shoulder into Jackson who grunted and gave Epeius a nudge back with his own shoulder.

“My babies,” Jess said, approaching the unicorns with her arms held out in reverence just as she had the last summer.

Scott chuckled seeing the look on Harriet’s face.

“Yeah, she does that every time,” he confided in an undertone.

Harriet giggled.

The unicorns wasted little time in getting to know the girls. Marcus seemed a little put-out that the unicorns were all giving him a wide berth. Harriet remembered Jess saying that unicorns didn’t like boys as much. However, Jess guided him over to the foals who were more trusting. In next to no time, the foals were all scampering around Marcus playing a game of tag that they had played with Harriet the previous summer.

However, Harriet noticed something else. Despite their reluctance to get near Marcus, the unicorns seemed to have no such problem with Jackson. Harriet wondered if this was because of his friendship with Epeius. Harriet noted that Jess was studying Jackson thoughtfully too, rubbing her strong chin, looking impressed.

“Has a knack with horses, doesn’t he?” Jess said to Harriet as Harriet walked over.

“Yeah, he does,” Harriet agreed.

“Must be because of Epeius,” Scott said. “They’ve really taken to him despite being a different species.”

“Oh my babies know that a horse is a horse,” Jess said, proudly.

Ari, Danielle, Erica, Peyton, and Taylor all looked at each other, breaking into little mischievous smiles and whispering “ _Of course, of course_ ,” in a singsong before breaking out in giggles.

“Hmm?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Peyton replied after catching her breath, winking.

Harriet looked over at Epeius and noted that despite his apparently being accepted by the other unicorns, he was keeping his distance. She decided to go talk to him instead.

“Hey Epeius,” Harriet said stepping up to him.

“Hello, Harriet,” Epeius said in his usual deep voice. “Going well?”

“Well enough,” Harriet said. Unbidden, her awkward memories returned.

Epeius’ expression didn’t change, but somehow Harriet couldn’t help but tell that he knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“You humans… always hiding things,” he said, confirming Harriet’s suspicions.

“Sorry, it’s complicated,” Harriet replied.

Epeius simply turned and started watching the herd again.

“How are you getting on with the others?” Epeius asked.

“Oh yeah, they’re great,” Harriet said, much more sincerely this time.

“I enjoyed their company too… but the older girls kept calling me _Mister Ed_ … no idea what they meant by it but they seemed to mean it in an endearing way.”

“Huh, got me,” Harriet shrugged.

Epeius gave a loud sniff and returned his attention to the herd. It was then that Harriet noticed something else. It wasn’t the herd he was watching. Rather, he was clearly watching one of the unicorn mares.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Harriet grinned.

Epeius turned his head slowly to look back at her. “What?” he asked.

“What’s her name?” Harriet asked, grinning.

Epeius snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to say it in your tongue.”

“There isn’t a translation?” Harriet asked.

“No,” Epeius said. “Not from Unicorn. It’s an amazing dialect. Beautiful, lyrical… probably how you humans view languages like French.”

Harriet laughed loudly. “But there’s still translations of French!” Harriet laughed.

Epeius snorted. “Well, maybe it wasn’t the best comparison. Still.”

“Talk to her much?” Harriet asked.

“No…” Epeius said and shifted a little.

Harriet grinned. For some reason, she found the fact that a horse like Epeius could get bashful to be utterly adorable.

“Well, just when are you going to acknowledge your own friends’ interests?” Epeius asked.

Now Harriet felt herself blush and shift uncomfortably.

“Wh-who do you mean?” Harriet asked. “Which friend?”

Epeius looked at her with his fathomless eyes. “You misunderstood. I didn’t say ‘friend’s,’ I said ‘friends’.’ More than one.”

Epeius looked back out at the field. “Because I’m fairly sure Dora isn’t the only one.”


	7. The Portkey

“How wonderful it is to finally step out and see the vastness of the world. Even better, when you realize how little you have to do to actually see just how big it is.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“Time to go, Harriet dear.”

Harriet grunted as Mrs Weasley shook her awake. It was the morning of the Quidditch World Cup, but Harriet couldn’t help but feel she’d barely slept at all. She put on her glasses as Hermione grunted, waking up too. Ronnie was putting up a considerably harder fight.

The girls dressed in silence. After their time at Glen Raglan, only Harriet and Hermione had returned to the Burrow. Marcus had gone to see the last regular match, Netherlands v Germany, with his dad. Kieran and Scott had stayed at home with their parents. Dora had gone back home to spend time with her family. Ginny, meanwhile, had gone ahead with the Lovegoods to camp out before the match.

They were delayed by the considerable amounts of yawning and stretching they were doing. Then further delayed by having to stop and make their hair behave.

Harriet winced as she gave a knot in her hair too hard a tug. She had been irritable all week after receiving Daniel’s reply. It wasn’t that he’d said anything mean, or actually made her feel stupid. It was that he’d barely said anything at all.

_Dear Harriet,_

_I understand what you’re going through, and you’re not being stupid. There’s a lot of things in life you never really got to experience through no fault of your own. There’s a lot in your letter that’s difficult to answer in another letter. Remus and I will meet you at the Cup. We’ll talk about it all then._

_See you in a week,_

_Daniel_

 

While Harriet had appreciated his quick response, she didn’t really appreciate being left in the dark for another week. She was tired of always not knowing, always being one step behind everyone else.

However, now the day was finally here. Daniel and Remus were going to address her concerns, and she was going to be watching the Quidditch World Cup Final. The match had come down to Ireland and Bulgaria, the two teams Fred, George, and Charlie had all been sure were going to go head to head.

With one last, frustrated sigh from each, Harriet and Hermione set down their brushes and stumbled into the kitchen. Fred and George were already there; staring blankly as Mrs Weasley stirred a large pot of porridge on the stove. Mr Weasley was sitting at the table as well, looking over some large, parchment tickets. He smiled as the girls entered and spread his arms.

“What do you think? Like a Muggle?” he asked. He was wearing a golfing jumper, a pair of overlarge jeans, held up by a thick leather belt.

“Very well done, Mr Weasley,” Hermione complimented.

“Where’re Bill and Charlie and Percy?” George asked, stifling a yawn.

“Well, they’ll be Apparating,” Mrs Weasley said as she began ladling porridge into everyone’s bowls. “So they can have a bit of a lie-in.”

Bill’s arrival had made Harriet feel a little better about her own behaviour regarding Charlie. While she had found Bill fanciful when he was in the picture, she didn’t find real life Bill quite as appealing. It wasn’t because he wasn’t handsome. He just seemed a bit too “cool” for Harriet’s tastes. He wore dragon-hide boots, had a fang earring, and his hair was done in a long ponytail.

Hermione, however, went positively spare when he was around. Harriet imagined this had more to do with the fact Bill had once been both a Prefect and Head Boy at Hogwarts than his current fashion sense.

“So they’re still in bed,” Fred muttered as he pulled his porridge bowl closer. “Why can’t we apparate too?”

Harriet didn’t know a whole lot about apparition, other than it was very difficult, and involved disappearing in one place, and reappearing almost instantly in another.

“Because you’re not of age, and you haven’t passed your tests,” Mrs Weasley snapped.

“You have to take a test to apparate?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, yes,” Mr Weasley said cheerfully, tucking the tickets into his pocket. “Just the other day the Department for Magical Transportation had to fine a couple of people who tried it without a licence. Apparition’s really difficult, even for fully qualified wizards. That’s why most don’t bother with it, prefer brooms instead. Anyway, this particular pair went and Splinched themselves.”

Everyone but Harriet winced. “Splinched?” she asked.

“It means they left part of themselves behind,” Mr Weasley explained. “So they were stuck, couldn’t move either way. Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had a heck of a time sorting them out, and all the paperwork too, what with all the muggles who’d seen the body parts they’d left behind.”

Harriet grimaced. She had an image of a leg left behind in Privet Drive and decided she rather preferred the idea of brooms too. “Were they okay?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” Mr Weasley said. “But they got a heavy fine, and I doubt they’ll be trying it again in a hurry.”

“But Bill, Charlie and Percy all can do it?”

“Charlie had to do the test twice,” Fred said. He grinned maliciously. “Failed the first time, Apparated five miles south of where he’d planned and landed on some poor old dear doing her shopping.”

“Yes, well he passed the second time,” Mrs Weasley said.

Harriet couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit relieved that at least Charlie had trouble with Apparating.

“Percy only just passed the week you lot went off to Hermione’s,” George said. “He kept Apparating downstairs every morning just to prove he could.”

“Why’d he stop?” Hermione asked.

“We put a tack on his seat,” Fred said in an undertone.

“Why are we up so early?” Ronnie asked. She clearly hadn’t listened to anything anyone was saying.

“We’ve got a bit of a walk,” Mr Weasley said. “The Portkey’s located at the top of Stoatshead Hill.”

“A Portkey?” Harriet asked.

“Oh yes,” Mr Weasley said. “Enchanted objects used to move multiple people at once from one place to another. A bit more fool proof than Apparating, but slower, and faster than brooms and more discrete.”

Harriet nodded with a bit of a relief. For a moment she had worried that they were going to be walking to the Cup. Not that she minded a walk, she just didn’t want to miss getting to talk to Daniel and Remus.

“George!” Mrs Weasley snapped, making everyone jump.

“What?” George asked, trying and failing to sound innocent.

“What is that in your pocket?”

“Nothing!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” Mrs Weasley jabbed her wand at George’s pocket. “ _Accio!_ ”

A handful of brightly coloured little objects shot from George’s pocket. He tried to grab for them but missed and they landed in Mrs Weasley’s hand instead.

“We told you to destroy them!” Mrs Weasley said, her face read with fury as she brandished the little objects in Fred and George’s faces. Harriet recognized them at once as Ton-Tongue Toffees. “We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, now! Both of you!”

It was not a pleasant scene. Fred and George apparently were trying to smuggle the Toffees out of the house to somewhere safer. Unfortunately, this effort came to a dramatic and tragic conclusion as Mrs Weasley’s wand flashed. “ _Accio! Accio! Accio!_ ” Mrs Weasley cried.

Toffees shot out of everywhere. Some were hidden in the lining of George’s jacket, and Fred had hidden more in the cuffs of his jeans.

“We spent six months developing those!” Fred shouted angrily as she dumped the toffees into the bin.

“Oh a fine way to spend six months!” Mrs Weasley shouted back. “No wonder you didn’t get more O.W.Ls!”

Harriet sighed as they left. It felt like leaving Hermione’s house all over again. Fred and George had stormed off ahead of the group without a word to their mother.

Daybreak was just beginning to rise on the horizon as they made their way towards Stoatshead Hill. Harriet, her mind starting to fill up with the excitement of watching the Cup and how she was going to see other wizards from all around the world, sped up to walk with Mr Weasley.

“So, is everyone going to be getting to the Cup via Portkeys?”

“Oh most people,” Mr Weasley said. “Given that most people are going to be arriving as families. But we do have apparition points set up as well and patrolled lanes which witches and wizards who wish to arrive via brooms can travel without worrying about Muggle air traffic.”

“How many people are coming?” Harriet asked.

“Well the stadium we built for it seats a hundred thousand,” Mr Weasley explained.

“Whoa,” Harriet muttered.

Mr Weasley chuckled.

“So a hundred thousand people are heading to the Cup today?” Harriet asked.

“Oh no,” Mr Weasley said. “We staggered the arrivals. Take the Lovegoods. They had to arrive last week at their camp site.”

Harriet digested that information. “So, a stadium big enough for a hundred thousand people, how have they kept that hidden from the Muggles?”

“Well, it wasn’t easy. We first had to find a nice, big moor with adjacent camping sites. Then, we had to put muggle-repelling charms on every single inch of it. Anytime Muggles have got within a mile of the stadium they’ve suddenly _remembered_ very important appointments, and had to rush off. Bless them.”

The group fell into silence once more as they continued toward the hill. They passed through Ottery St Catchpole. Their footsteps sounded ominous as they echoed around the empty streets. The black mass that was Stoatshead Hill finally came into view as they exited the other side of the town. Harriet was shivering from the morning cold and Fred and George groaned sleepily at the sight.

Harriet’s cold abated quickly as they all grunted and struggled up the hill. There was plenty to slip and trip on, thick tufts of grass and hidden rabbit holes. Hermione and Ronnie, being much more focused on their fitness from lacrosse and football, were leading everyone easily. Fred, George, and Harriet however were lagging behind.

“We should suggest some fitness training to whoever’s captain this year,” Harriet panted under her breath to Fred.

“I don’t climb whopping great hills enough to change my life,” George said, overhearing.

Finally, they made it to the top. Mr Weasley smiled looking around as he caught his breath. “Right, now we just need the Portkey,” Mr Weasley said. “It won’t be big.”

“What will it look like?” Harriet asked, looking around and feeling foolish as she had no idea exactly what she was looking for.

“Oh, something small and unobtrusive. A boot perhaps, an old oven lid. Something small and innocuous enough that muggles wouldn’t bother picking it up.”

“Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!” The voice had come from the other side of the hilltop. Harriet squinted and through the darkness she made out two tall figures silhouetted against the stars.

“Ah, Amos,” Mr Weasley said cheerfully as the group made their way over to the figures.

He gestured to the rest of the group and they followed. Harriet’s heart jumped as they got close enough to make out the features of the two figures. Harriet didn’t recognize the tall, bearded man, but she definitely recognized the teenage boy standing beside him. As ever, the teen gave Harriet little butterflies as he gave everyone a radiantly casual smile.

His hair was wavy and brown, his jawline strong and his shoulders wide. His smile was warm and glowing even in the barely risen sun. He was a year older than Fred and George, captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team and a Prefect. It was Cedric Diggory.

“Everyone, this is Amos Diggory,” Mr Weasley said, introducing everyone to the bearded man standing with Cedric. He was holding onto a mouldy old boot. “He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

Harriet felt her eyes narrow on their own. That was the same department that ran the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, which Lucius Malfoy had manipulated into agreement for Buckbeak, Hagrid’s pet hippogriff’s, execution the previous year. By the looks on Ronnie and Hermione’s faces, they had not forgotten this injustice either.

“And I think you all know his son, Cedric?”

Cedric gave everyone an awkward wave. “Hi.”

The rest of the teens said “Hi” back. Harriet’s “Hi” was perhaps a bit more enthusiastic than she’d originally intended.

The exceptions were Fred and George. George just gave him a curt nod, while Fred just gave him a dirty look. Harriet figured this was because the last time their team had played Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff had won. Then Harriet remembered how Fred had been acting around her lately and wondered if Fred was in fact jealous. For some reason, this possibility made Harriet lose all her butterflies, and instead she felt her lips curl into an involuntary, and rather sheepish, smile.

“Long walk, Arthur?” Mr Diggory asked.

“Oh, not too bad. We just live on the other side of the village. You?”

“Had to get up a two, didn’t we, Ced? Could have Apparated but someone’s been a bit lazy with signing up for a test time.”

Cedric went red. Harriet wondered if Cedric didn’t like the idea of Apparating either.

“Still,” Mr Diggory went on. “Not complaining. Quidditch World Cup and all, wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of galleons! Mind you the tickets cost about that. Though blimey, looks like I got off easy! All these yours, Arthur?”

Mr Weasley laughed. “Oh no, just the redheads. My sons, Fred and George. My eldest daughter, Ronnie. And Ronnie’s friends, Hermione, and Harriet.”

“Galloping gargoyles,” Mr Diggory spluttered, his eyes widening. “Not… Harriet _Potter_?”

“Uh, yeah,” Harriet muttered. Harriet wondered if she’d ever get used to the people always tried to spot her scar through her fringe every time they heard her name. Mr Diggory was no exception.

“Ced’s talked about you, of course!” Mr Diggory said. “Told us all about playing against you last year. I said to him, I said… Ced, that’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will! You beat Harriet Potter!”

Harriet was left a bit speechless at this. Fred bent Cedric a very ugly look indeed.

Cedric shifted uncomfortably. “Harriet fell off her broom, Dad,” Cedric said. “I told you it was an accident, normally she would have beaten me.”

Harriet felt her eyes widen involuntarily.

“Now, now, Ced. You didn’t fall off, did you?” Mr Diggory countered genially, slapping Cedric on the back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman. But the better flyer won, I’m sure Harriet would agree. And showing everyone just what Hufflepuff house is made of into the mix!”

“Not likely,” Fred interjected. “Since the only reason _Ced_ didn’t fall off is he doesn’t have to listen to you and his dear mummy snuffing it trying to save his life because of the dirty-great crowd of dementors!”

“Fred!” Mr Weasley snapped.

Mr Diggory scowled and Fred scowled right back. Cedric however was looking at Harriet with a dumbstruck look on his face. Something of the pain of that memory must have shown on Harriet’s face, because Cedric’s expression quickly changed from dumbstruck to sympathetic.

Mr Diggory opened his mouth to retort but Mr Weasley interrupted by looking at his watch. “Ah, just about time! Are we waiting for any more, Amos?”

Mr Diggory took a breath and calmed himself down. “No, the Lovegoods have already been there for a week, and the Fawcetts couldn’t get tickets.”

“Ah, well that would be everyone then.” Mr Weasley checked his watch again. “Right, we’re a minute off. Let’s get ready, everyone.”

Mr Diggory held out the boot and Mr Weasley smiled down at Harriet and Hermione. “You just need to touch the Portkey, girls. A finger will do.”

As there were eight of them, all with heavy backpacks, it was difficult for everyone to get close enough. Eventually, in just the nick of time, they managed it. Harriet had one fleeting image of what would happen if a Muggle were to happen upon them when Mr Weasley began the final countdown.

“Three… two… one!”

It happened in an instant. Harriet felt as though something tugged hard on her middle, just behind her belly-button. It pulled her forward and before Harriet knew what was really happening, her feet had left the ground. They were speeding forwards. The entire world was the roar of wind and swirling colours. Harriet could feel Ronnie and Hermione’s shoulders bumping into hers as they sped forwards.

Harriet’s feet hit the ground. Ronnie staggered into her and she in turn toppled into Hermione, all three girls collapsing to the ground. There was a heavy thud nearby which Harriet took to be the Portkey.

Harriet looked around. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though they looked quite windswept. Fred and George grunted nearby. They had fallen as well.

“Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,” said a nearby voice.

Harriet, Hermione, and Ronnie managed to disentangle themselves and got to their feet. They were standing on a misty moor. It looked deserted, except for two wizards standing nearby. Both of them seemed grumpy, and very tired. One was looking at a large golden pocket watch while the other was reading a thick roll of parchment. They had both dressed as muggles, though rather poorly. The one with the watch was wearing a tweed suit and thigh length galoshes, while his colleague was wearing a kilt and a poncho.

“Ah, good morning, Basil,” Mr Weasley said, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of objects Harriet took to be used Portkeys. Harriet noted a newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

“Hello, Arthur,” said Basil, wearily. “Not on duty, eh? It’s all right for some. We’ve been here all night. Get relieved in an hour though. You’d better get out of the way though, big party from the Black Forest, twenty two in all, coming in at five fifteen. I’ll just quick look up your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…” he studied the parchment. “Ah, here we are. About a quarter mile’s walk over there. First field. Site manager’s called Mr Roberts. Diggory, you’ll be the next field down. Ask for Mr Payne.”

“Thanks, Basil,” Mr Weasley said.

They set off after Mr Weasley. It was hard to see where they were going in the thick mists, but Mr Weasley took out his wand, set it in the palm of his hand and said “ _Point Me_.” The wand spun in his hand and stopped.

“There we are,” Mr Weasley said and started walking once more. Harriet made a note of the spell in her head, as it seemed to be a spell which turned a wand into a compass.

After another twenty minutes, they arrived at a small stone cottage and a gate. Through the mists, Harriet could make out hundreds of tents, sprawled across the large open field, heading towards a large, thick wood. They bid the Diggorys fair well (everyone but Fred and George), and headed to the cottage. There was a man standing in the doorway. The man looked just as tired as the two men who met them at the Portkey, but his perfectly acceptable muggle dress told Harriet that he was probably the only real muggle for several acres.

“Good morning!” Mr Weasley called as they approached.

“Mornin’,” said the Muggle.

“Would you happen to be Mr Roberts?”

“Aye, that’s me,” Mr Roberts said. “And you are?”

“Weasley. Two tents. Booked a couple of days ago?”

“Oh, aye,” Mr Roberts said. He turned and ran a finger down a list he had tacked to his door. “Got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?”

Mr Weasley didn’t respond right away. He had caught sight of Mr Roberts’ tractor but George nudged him and brought him back to the present. “Oh, yes that’s right,” Mr Weasley said.

“You’ll be paying now, then?”

“Oh – right, certainly!” said Mr Weasley. He took a few steps away from the cottage, his back to Mr Roberts, and beckoned Hermione over.

They whispered discretely. Mr Roberts leaned closer, clearly trying to listen in. Finally, Mr Weasley looked satisfied and returned to Mr Roberts.

“You foreign?” Mr Roberts asked as Mr Weasley handed him the notes.

“Uh, foreign?” Mr Weasley asked.

“You’re not the first who’s had trouble with money. Had two who tried to pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago. Lots of Irish, too. Bit too many if you ask me, after the bombing in Bognor Regis.”

“Bombing?” Mr Weasley spluttered.

“Getting mighty suspicious to me. You watch yourself. It’s like some sort of big rally, or party or something. Usually people just turn up but look at them all,” Mr Roberts said gesturing to the tents. “Strange folks, one walking around in a kilt and a poncho. Something’s going on and I’ve half a mind to call the Home—”

There was a popping noise and a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin-air next to Mr Roberts’ door and pointed his wand at the muggle.

“ _Obliviate!”_ he said.

Mr Roberts’ eyes instantly slid out of focus, and his face went from angry concern to passive and relaxed.

“A map of the campsite for you,” Mr Roberts said, his voice placid. “And your change.”

“Thank you very much,” Mr Weasley said.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them away from the cottage. He looked just as exhausted as everyone else but he seemed to be a bit friendlier.

“Been having a lot of trouble with him,” the wizard said to Mr Weasley once they were out of earshot. “He’s needed a memory charm ten times a day to keep him happy. Ludo Bagman’s not helping in the least. Wandering about and talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice. Not a single worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I’ll be glad when this is over. Take care, Arthur.”

The man Disapparated with a loud crack.

“Isn’t Bagman head of Magical Games and Sports?” Ronnie asked. “He should know better than that.”

“Yes, he should,” Mr Weasley said leading them on once more. “But Ludo’s never exactly been overly concerned with security. You couldn’t wish for a more enthusiastic department head though. Played for England himself, you know. Best Beater the Wimborne Wasps ever had.”

Harriet’s feet were beginning to hurt badly as they continued on past the tents. For the most part, they all looked like perfectly ordinary tents. However, every now and then, it appeared some of the owners had slipped up. Some of them had chimneys, and bell-pulls and weather-vanes. Harriet also noted that some of the campers had slipped up so badly with their tents that Harriet was starting to see why Mr Roberts was getting suspicious. One particular tent looked like a miniature silken palace, with live peacocks tethered at the entrance. Another looked rather like Hogwarts, with three floors and turrets in the corners. Still another had an entire front garden which included a birdbath, a large sundial, and a fountain.

Mr Weasley sighed but smiled. “Always the same. We can’t resist showing off when we get together. Ah! Here we are! At least, I think this is us…”

They finally reached the edge of the woods. There was an empty space and a small sign stuck into the ground that read “Weezly.”

“Couldn’t have a better spot!” Mr Weasley said excitedly. “The pitch is just the other side of the wood there. We’re as close as we could be.”

Mr Weasley groaned as he finally took off his backpack. “Right, we’re not allowed to do magic, strictly speaking. Not when we’re out in these numbers on Muggle land. So, we’ll have to put these tents up by hand! Shouldn’t be too difficult, Muggles do it all the time. Uh, Harriet, Hermione, where do you reckon we should start?”

Having spent a week camping in tents at the Grangers, Harriet and Hermione were fairly quick in setting up the tents. The only real factor slowing them down was Mr Weasley, who got a little over-excited about using the mallet to pound in the stakes. Finally, both the tents were standing. They looked a little shabby, but otherwise not too bad. However, there was one problem that both Harriet and Hermione seemed to touch on at the same time.

Neither tent looked big enough to hold any more than two people. But when Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of nine. Ten, if Ginny decided to join them. Mr Weasley however got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside the entrance of the first tent.

“Well, we should be alright. Not overly large but with four girls in one tent and the boys here in the other we should be just fine.”

Harriet blinked and got down, following Mr Weasley inside as well. She gasped. What on the outside had looked like a two-person tent, on the inside was actually a three-roomed, fully furnished flat with bathroom and kitchen. Harriet felt an odd sense of familiarity as she looked around the flat.

Then she realized, it smelled and was furnished in exactly the same style as their batty neighbour, Mrs Figg’s, where the Dursleys usually sent Harriet to stay whenever they went on holidays. The chairs were mismatched, and draped in crocheted covers. The most recognizable was the overwhelming smell of cats.

“Well, it’s just for a night,” Mr Weasley said. “Borrowed this one from Perkins in the office. Poor chap has lumbago so he doesn’t camp much anymore these days.”

Mr Weasley picked up the dusty kettle from the stove and peered into it. “Hmm, we’ll need some water.”

“There’s a tap marked on the map the muggle gave us,” Ronnie said. “It’s over on the other side of the field.”

“Well, how about you girls go and fetch the water, and the boys and I will fetch some firewood.”

“Okay, Dad,” Ronnie said. “We’ll check out our tent first though.”

“Oh, right you are, Ronnie,” Mr Weasley said cheerfully. “We’ll see you back in a while.”

Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermione each took the kettle, and two saucepans, and headed over to their tent. It was smaller than the boys’, but did not smell of cats. They picked out a bed each, put their bags down on them, and headed off in search of water.

The sun was fully up now and the mist was abating. Harriet gaped in wonder at just how vast the sea of tents was. She’d heard about other wizarding schools in other countries, but it was seeing this that really told Harriet just how many witches and wizards there must really be in the world.

“How many times, Kevin? You _don’t – touch – Daddy’s – wand!_ ”

They looked around. A young boy, who couldn’t have been older than two, was prodding a slug with the tip of a wand. The slug had swollen to the size of a salami. His mother was hurrying up to the boy. She took the wand from his hand, but not before accidentally stepping on the slug, squashing it. “Yeuch!”

They hurried away as the little boy’s wails followed them. A few tents down, they saw two little witches, who looked at most a year older than Kevin, skimming the grass on tiny toy broomsticks and giggling madly. A Ministry wizard hurried past Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie on his way towards the little girls’ tent.

“In broad daylight! I ask you! Parents having a lie-in I suppose…”

The camp seemed to be coming to life around them. Witches and wizards were stepping out of their tents, starting to cook breakfast on fires. The smell of campfire smoke was permeating the air. Harriet noted that more than a few of the campers were forgoing matches, choosing instead to furtively light their fires with their wands. However, most seemed to be giving proper muggle techniques a try, with varying levels of success.

They passed a group of African wizards in long white robes, who were sitting and speaking seriously around a bright purple fire. Harriet raised her eyebrows realizing they were roasting a rabbit over it on a spit. They passed another group of tents that seemed to be together. There was a large star-spangled banner stretched between the tents and a sign that read: _The Salem Witches’ Institute Memorial Group_.

“Blimey, I heard about that earlier in the summer,” Ronnie muttered, shaking her head sadly.

“About what?” Harriet asked.

“Over in America, big Secessionist force launched a sneak attack up the eastern coast. Killed thousands, magic and muggle alike. That was back in like June.”

“How horrible,” Hermione said, biting her lip. “The school must have been destroyed too.”

“School?” Harriet asked.

“The Salem Witches’ Institute. It was an all witch school. It must have been destroyed too. Look, there’s a donation tin.”

They paused and made their way over. A group of middle-aged witches Harriet took to be alumni of the school were sitting solemnly around their own fire. They smiled at the girls as they approached and took out their money-bags.

“Bless you, darlings,” said one of the witches. “Every little bit will help.”

They continued on (Harriet put five galleons in) and soon found themselves surrounded by a dazzling array of green. Every tent in this patch was covered in a growth of thick shamrocks, so they looked like little hillocks rather than tents.

“There you lot are!” called a cheerful, familiar voice. They turned and saw Marcus walking towards them along with his fellow fourth-year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

“Like the theme?” Seamus asked, grinning ear to ear as he took in the tents. “Ministry’s not terribly chuffed about it.”

“Ah and why shouldn’t we show our colours?” asked a sandy-haired woman who came walking up as well. Harriet figured at a glance that this was Seamus’ mother. “You should see what the Bulgarians have got all over _their_ tents!”

Mrs Finnigan gave all the girls a beady-look. “You’re all supporting Ireland, right?”

They hurriedly reassured her that they were in fact supporting Ireland before setting off once more, this time with Marcus joining them.

“Like we’d say anything else surrounded by that lot, though,” Ronnie muttered as they left the Irish supporters.

“What do the Bulgarians have all over their tents?” Hermione asked Marcus.

Marcus laughed. “Great big posters of the Bulgarian team seeker, Viktor Krum. Moving and all.”

“Ah, well I can see why the Ministry wouldn’t be so happy about that,” Harriet said. “Look, there’s the Bulgarians over there. Let’s go have a look.”

They headed over and sure enough, instead of shamrock coatings, each tent was adorned, as Marcus had said, with a large, magical poster of a very surly face with thick eyebrows and black hair. The picture was moving, though barely. The most that the figure in it did was blink and scowl uncomfortably.

“That’s him,” Ronnie said, reverently. “Krum.”

“Doesn’t look too happy, does he?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, he’s really not,” Marcus said. “I saw him at the last match I went to. He was running away from some reporters. He’s not as old as he looks in the posters though. He’s only what, eighteen?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie agreed. “Still, even if I’m supporting Ireland I can’t wait to see him in action. He’s a _genius_! Just wait till you see him, Harriet. He’ll make you forget all about my brother.”

“Oh shut up,” Harriet snapped.

They finally reached the queue for the water. A few spaces ahead of them in the line were Kieran and Scott, who eagerly gave up their places to come back and join the rest of them instead.

“Was wondering when you all were gonna turn up!” Scott said excitedly.

“Yeah, we just got in,” Ronnie said smiling. “Been here long?”

“Got in last night,” Kieran said. “Your Muggle as angry as ours?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said shrugging. “Not sure why though, he’s getting paid for each tent isn’t he?”

“Just put them on, Archie! There’s a good chap!”

The group turned to take in the spectacle going on in front of them. An elderly wizard wearing a floral night-gown was in a heated argument with a ministry wizard who was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers.

“You can’t walk around like that,” the Ministry wizard continued. “The muggle on the gate’s getting suspicious again and he’s already been Obliviated three times this morning!”

“I bought this in a Muggle shop!” Archie said, his tone obstinate. “Muggles wear them!”

“Muggle _women_ wear them Archie! Not the men! They wear these!”

“I’m not putting them on!” Archie growled. “I like a healthy breeze around my privates, thanks!”

Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermione, all came over with a powerful fit of the giggles. Hermione actually had to leave the line. Scott looked a little awkward as he walked up and tugged the Ministry wizard on the sleeve and suggested that Archie try on a kilt instead. Seeming somewhat happier about this prospect, Archie collected his water and followed the Ministry wizard off for more ‘acceptable’ Muggle attire.

Finally they got their water and made their way back to their campsites. They stopped for Kieran and Scott to take their water back to their tents before following the girls and Marcus back to the Weasleys. They spotted more familiar faces here and there as they went. They ran into Oliver Wood, who wasted little time in introducing Harriet to his parents. Harriet had always been rather taken with Wood, and so flushed furiously as Wood showered her with praise. He then informed Harriet that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team.

Other familiar faces they saw were Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year along with Jeremy and Isabella. Another was Cho Chang, a fifth year Ravenclaw who despite playing Seeker for Ravenclaw and thus Harriet’s rival, had always been quite decent to Harriet.

However, they soon passed a group of teenagers, none of whom were familiar to Harriet. “Think they go to a foreign school?” Harriet asked.

“Must do,” said Kieran.

They walked over to introduce themselves. The students were from all over. Hermione was going spare, nearly spilling her water in excitement at the chance to talk to students from so many other schools. There were some from Beauxbatons who Harriet was thrilled to discover knew Camille. However, by the sound of it, Camille was quite popular, so nearly everyone knew her. Still others were from Mount Phoenix, which Kieran took a particular interest in and was deep in conversation with them.

There were a few Asian students as well who went to a school Harriet had never heard of; Four Nations. Harriet wasn’t sure what to say, but mostly listened in as Scott began to chat with them about life at their school. Apparently he was interested because Atsuko had told him she would have gone to that school until her family moved to Britain when she was five.

Ronnie was talking with interest to some Latina witches around their age. Apparently they went to a school in Brazil named Muiraquitã. Ronnie was thrilled to discover that they shared a similar interest in football, and quickly brought on fits of laughter in regaling them with the story of her eldest brother, Bill, having a pen-friend from their school many years ago. The friend had requested Bill go on an exchange trip to their school for a year, but their parents couldn’t afford it. The pen-friend had apparently been so offended that she sent him a cursed hat that made his ears shrivel up.

Finally, it was time they should really be returning to the tents and they parted from the other students. They returned and Harriet smiled when she saw the Flamels had arrived and were chatting merrily with Mr Weasley.

In spite of how awkward she had felt around Dora over the last couple of weeks, Harriet did feel a sense of completeness as Dora came over and gave everyone hugs (though she held hers with Harriet noticeably longer than everyone else’s). Having everyone together again just seemed to feel right.

Emma was beaming as she hurried over too. “Guess what!” Emma said excitedly to the group.

“What?” Hermione asked smiling at the willowy second year.

“We got a puppy!”

“Really?” Kieran asked, smiling. “That’s great.”

Dora laughed and rolled her eyes.

“What did you name him?” Harriet asked, her eyes twinkling giving Emma a knowing smile. “Lemme guess, _Snuffles_?”

“Nope!” Emma grinned wider. “Max!”

“That’s a very nice name, dear,” Hermione said. “Is it short for something?”

“Yep!” Emma nodded. “For Maximus!”

“Maximus?” Hermione asked, blinking.

“Ya-huh,” Emma said and pointed past Hermione.

The group turned and Hermione gave a shriek of surprise and stumbled backwards. Marcus was just quick enough to catch her before she fell. They were all standing almost face to face with a dog so large it rivalled Sirius’ animagus form. Harriet stared in disbelief. The dog was covered in a short, fawn coat, with a black mask on a box-shaped head, very droopy skin, and floppy, triangular ears.

“He’s a mastiff!” Emma said proudly as she rushed forward and hugged the dog around the neck. Harriet noted that Emma did not have to bend over very far to do so.

“Ma petit Emma would ‘ave no other,” Mr Flamel said, walking over to pat the massive dog on the head. “A spectacular specimen! Singular. English mastiff; two-hundred seven pounds and growing, three feet two at the shoulder, seven foot seven from nose to tail, and with plenty of years left to grow.”

Max now flopped over on his back, his massive tongue lolling about as Emma giggled and kneeled down to scratch his belly.

“We were a bit sceptical of having such a large breed but we were assured they are a very passive breed,” Mrs Flamel said.

There was no denying that, Harriet thought, as Max groaned. His back left leg was kicking as Emma found a good spot and his long tail whipped back and forth in glee. Dora meanwhile was smiling down at her sister as if nothing in the world made her happier than the sight. This made Harriet decide things were as back to normal as they could be.

## * * * *

They spent the rest of the morning sitting around the campfire (which Hermione had helped Mr Weasley get started) cooking an early lunch. The adults were chatting merrily about the cup while the kids were all gathered around Max giving him as much attention as he could possibly handle. After she’d worn off her initial shock from Max’s surprise appearance, Hermione had warmed to him a great deal.

Finally, Bill, Charlie and Percy arrived just as the eggs and sausages were finished.

“Just Apparated, Dad,” Percy said cheerfully.

“Nooooo, did you Apparate, Percy?” Fred jeered, “Could have sworn you’d walk.”

“Did you stick your landing with a summersault?” George asked.

Percy glowered.

“Ah, lunch,” Charlie said smiling as he took a seat next to the fire. However, no sooner had he done so than Mr Weasley hopped to his feet.

“Aha!” Mr Weasley said and waved vigorously. “The man of the moment! Ludo!”

Everyone turned. Ludo Bagman stood out by a mile. He was even more noticeable than old Archie had been in his night-dress. He was wearing garishly bright yellow Quidditch robes with horizontal black stripes, and an enormous wasp emblazoned across the chest.

He was tall and broad shouldered, a good build for a Beater, but Harriet couldn’t help but notice that his robes were a bit tight around the middle, and his nose looked a bit squashed. Harriet figured that was the result of a missed Bludger. However, his rosy cheeks, short blonde hair, bright blue eyes, jubilant expression, and the spring in his step made him seem more like an excited schoolboy than anything else.

“Ahoy there!” Bagman called as he reached them. He beamed merrily at everyone. “Hello Arthur, my good man! And the Flamels too! Ah my lady Jessica you are ravishing as ever! Blimey, what a day, eh?! What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? Cloudless night coming, not a single hiccup in the arrangements, teams are already here getting in their practicing. Not much for me to do but mix and mingle!”

Harriet was temporarily distracted from the garish sight of Bagman by a group of Ministry witches and wizards rushing past, looking angry and pointing. There was a jet of sparks shooting up some twenty feet into the air in the distance.

Her attention was called back to the scene by Mr Weasley making introductions. As per usual, Bagman gave Harriet the typical double-take that everyone did when realizing who she was for the first time.

Fortunately, Mr Weasley spared Harriet any awkward conversation by turning the attention back onto Bagman himself. “Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, and it’s thanks to him that we got such good tickets for you kids.”

Bagman waved a hand dismissively but smiled all the same. He then pulled out a sack that jingled as though full of golden coins. “Anyone fancy a flutter on the match? Roddy Pontner’s already bet that Bulgaria will score first. Offered him good odds, given Ireland’s front three are the strongest I’ve seen in years. Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match.”

“Oh, um, oh alright. A galleon on Ireland to win?” Mr Weasley said awkwardly.

“A galleon?” Mr Bagman asked, disappointed.

“Ah, there we are,” said a voice behind Harriet.

Harriet’s face split into a grin before she’d even turned around. Daniel had arrived. Even better, Remus was smiling down at her as well.

“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, and three Knuts!” Harriet heard Fred saying excitedly behind her. “Ireland will win, but Krum’s gonna get the Snitch! And we’ll throw in a fake wand!”

“So, someone wanted to talk?” Daniel said kindly as Bagman laughed loudly when the fake wand Fred handed him turned into a rubber chicken.

“Yes,” Harriet said.

“Well, let’s find somewhere a bit more quiet then,” Remus said.

Harriet looked around. By the looks of it, everyone was outside at the moment. That meant the tents should be empty and private. Harriet led them into the boys’ tent and sat at the dining table.

“So, Harriet, you say your scar was hurting?” Remus asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Harriet said, a bit wrong-footed. She had expected to handle her other problems before getting on to that one.

“Well, unfortunately, we’re not entirely sure what to tell you there,” Daniel said. “See, Harriet; the only person ever to survive that curse was you. Plenty of curse scars do cause aches and pains over the years—take your friend, Kieran, for instance.”

“Right, but as with Kieran that’s usually because of where the curse hit. Do you remember anything else from that night, Harriet?” Remus asked. “Anything at all?”

“Well… I was dreaming,” Harriet replied. Somehow, now she was face to face with the two, she found keeping secrets a lot harder.

“I see… and do you remember this dream?” Daniel asked.

“Just… bits of it…” Harriet said. “Like… there was Voldemort… and Wormtail… but that’s about it.”

“I see…” Remus said, sitting back and rubbing his chin. “Well, I don’t know if it’s anything to get _too_ alarmed about just yet, Harriet. But we do want you to do us a favour.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“The next time it happens, write down exactly what happens in the dream as soon as you wake up and send it to us _and_ to Professor Dumbledore straight away,” Daniel said. “We’ve already consulted Albus about this incident, and while he found it troubling, he agreed it was nothing to get too worked up about just now.”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“Okay, now that we’ve got the most pressing matter out of the way, we can turn to your other issues,” Remus said, smiling once more.

Harriet shifted uncomfortably.

“Regarding Ari and Taylor,” Daniel said, chuckling. “Yes, they are a couple.”

“Like, dating?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Remus said nodding. “Though I understand why it may have struck you. Relationships like that aren’t terribly common just yet in the Muggle world. In the magical world, however, we’re a bit more accepting of it.”

“So, that’s why no one else was making a big deal out of it?” Harriet asked.

“Precisely,” Remus said. “In fact, one could go so far as to say that in the Muggle world, people like Ari and Taylor are as taboo as I am as a bitten wolf.”

Harriet grimaced at the term. She suddenly felt as strong sense of guilt over having felt so weirded out by it. She wondered now if she should finally tell them about Dora’s behaviour.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, kiddo,” Daniel said ruffling her hair. “There’s a difference between being prejudiced and having no experience at those kinds of things.”

“Really?” Harriet asked.

“Really,” Remus said. “You said yourself in your letter that you thought they seemed really nice, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“And now that you know the truth do you feel better about them or worse?” Daniel asked.

“Better,” Harriet said.

“Well, there you have it then,” Remus said kindly. “And as for Miss Jameson, well, once again your intuition is correct.”

“So, that _was_ Nate?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, and no,” Daniel chuckled. “Legally, yes. As in that’s what her parents named her. But in her mind; how she behaves and feels she really is, she’s Alee.”

Harriet tilted her head. This was starting to get confusing.

“It’s another sort of gender and sexuality issue that’s not exactly smiled upon in the Muggle world, Harriet,” Remus said. “So much so, that you’ll find it’s largely used as the butt of jokes…”

“It’s… not terribly common in the magical world, either,” Daniel admitted. “At least it wasn’t really well known until magical society started shifting in earnest to Muggle dress.”

“How do you mean?”

Remus chuckled. “Well, take robes for instance. They are a bit on the gender-neutral side, are they not?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harriet said. “Good point.”

Daniel smiled. “So, don’t worry about Alee. We know what a hard go of growing up you had with the Dursleys. You can’t have gotten much exposure to anything that isn’t ‘normal’ with them.”

“No…” Harriet admitted. She was starting to feel better. But then another thought was nagging at her. It wasn’t Dora’s actions anymore. It was Harriet’s own thoughts.

“So… there’s… something else,” Harriet said, her hands in her lap. Even though she was committing herself to opening up, she felt very vulnerable.

Daniel put a hand on her shoulder gently. “There’s no need to force yourself, kiddo. Just know we’re here to listen and offer whatever help we can.”

Harriet nodded and tried to find the words. “So… you say that Ari and Taylor are okay? Like, there’s nothing wrong with them?”

“We do,” Remus said nodding.

“Okay… because well…” Harriet fumbled for her thoughts.

“Take your time,” Remus said calmly.

“Okay,” Harriet said. “Well… I sometimes… like… around boys… I get these feelings, like butterflies and stuff in my stomach, but… not just there…”

Daniel and Remus both smiled though they did look rather awkward now. “Well you are growing up,” Daniel said. “Perfectly natural; hormones and whatnot.”

Harriet nodded. “Like… I got them around Wood, and I get them around Cedric, and Charlie…”

Daniel laughed. “I thought I saw you giving him the eye at your birthday party,” he said giving her a wink. “Though, if you don’t mind my saying so, there are plenty of very nice lads at Hogwarts who are much closer to you in age.”

“I know…” Harriet said. “I know it’s kinda stupid but he’s nice and kind.”

“Well, so is your friend Kieran,” Remus said.

Harriet blushed, remembering her whimsies during the Capture the Flag match of Kieran catching her.

“Well, so’s Scott, and Marcus,” Daniel added. “You seem to have a knack for attracting the right kind of guy,” he concluded.

Harriet grimaced. This conversation was not on the path she wanted it on. “Well, that’s not it,” Harriet said.

Remus and Daniel both blinked.

“The thing is… I don’t just… get those feelings about boys…”

Daniel and Remus’ eyes both went wide and they mouthed “ohhhhhhhhh” in unison.

“Yeah… like… I get them around Professor Sinistra… and a couple weeks ago… we were at a lacrosse match while staying at the Grangers.”

“A _female_ lacrosse match, I take it,” Daniel said, chuckling. Remus elbowed him.

“Well, yeah,” Harriet said.

Remus and Daniel both gave Harriet very sympathetic smiles.

“And, well, Dora asked me how she’d look in one of the kits and I pictured her—” Harriet paused. She decided to leave out that she’d also imagined Dora bound.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Daniel and Remus said again.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that either,” Daniel said giving Harriet’s shoulder another squeeze.

“No?” Harriet asked.

“No,” Remus agreed. “And I understand how confusing it can be. Particularly at your age and especially with how little experience you have. Truth be told, no one at your age, regardless of their upbringing, has much of a clue in the areas of attraction. We all sort of fumble around. I’m not saying what you felt for say Cedric or Dora in those moments is not genuine. But I think you have a lot more important things to worry about at the moment than relationships.”

Harriet nodded, digesting this.

“But that’s not to say that you should shut it all out, either,” Daniel said. “Just take life as it comes. If you find you like boys more, then you like boys more. If you like girls more, then you like girls more. If you like them both the same, then that’s perfectly fine too. It doesn’t really matter that much in our world, Harriet. It doesn’t matter to either of us, and it certainly won’t matter to Sirius.”

“And unless I’ve seriously misjudged all your friends over the previous school year, I doubt very much it will matter to any of them, either,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling.

Harriet tightened her lips. She was comforted by their words, but the lack of certainty was still nagging at her.

“But you’re better off not letting any of it get to you, Harriet. And don’t be afraid to open up to your friends. Closed doors never lead to long friendships, and if people don’t accept you, they’re not worth having as friends in the first place,” Daniel finished.

“Okay,” Harriet agreed and took a deep breath.

“You’re worried about Dora, too, aren’t you?” Remus asked.

Harriet felt her heart jump in her throat and she gave him a surprised look.

Remus chuckled. “I taught Dora for a year as well, Harriet. I know her quite well too. She’s not terribly discrete about it.”

“Oh… I… didn’t notice until this summer,” Harriet admitted.

“Well that’s okay,” Daniel said smiling. “Again, you have almost no experience at this. How can you expect to see something that you’re not even looking for? ”

“Good point,” Harriet muttered.

Remus chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about Dora, either, Harriet. And I’d keep in mind that Dora is probably just as confused about life and love as you are.”

“Really?” Harriet asked.

“Really,” Remus continued. “While you try and pull in to protect yourself, I think Dora is inclined to do the opposite. She wears her confidence like a shield instead. While you, and most people, seek validation by trying to conform to the world you live in, Dora… well… Dora seeks validation by—well—more or less forcing people to deal with who she is.”

“I see… that makes sense,” Harriet thought.

“Now, how about we focus on relaxing and go out and have some lunch and drink in the joy of friendship before the match?” Daniel suggested.

Harriet finally smiled. They headed back outside but Daniel and Remus both paused on the threshold. Harriet peeked between them. Another man was standing with the group who Harriet recognized. He had been in Professor Dumbledore’s office the night Aurochius and his crew had arrived. His name was Barty Crouch, and he was also Percy’s boss.

Crouch caught sight of Remus and Daniel and there was an awkward silence. His gaze upon Daniel was particularly venomous. Daniel returned it unabashedly.

“Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know,” Crouch said, curtly. He shoved a cup of undrunk tea back into Percy’s hands. “Thank you for the tea, Weatherby.”

Bagman swigged down the last of his tea and got to his feet. “See you all later!” he said cheerfully. “You kids will all be in the top box with me! I’ll be commentating!”

Both Bagman and Crouch disapparated.

“Well, that was an unpleasant surprise,” Daniel muttered.

Harriet looked up at him.

“Barty Crouch,” Daniel glowered, working his jaw, irritably. “He’s the one who sent Sirius to Azkaban without a trial.”


	8. The Quidditch World Cup

“It is always easier to head into danger when one has an objective. It was always like that in the war. The moment you don’t have a plan, that’s when the panic sets in.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

In spite of the unpleasant revelation about Crouch, Harriet couldn’t help smiling as the afternoon wore on. There was simply too much to be excited about. They played fetch with Max (though Max seemed more interested in getting as much petting and attention from everyone that he could), and had deep conversations about how the match was going to turn out. Dora was espousing passionately on the talents of Krum, but no one else seemed to share her confidence of a Bulgarian victory.

Ronnie wasn’t really joining in. She’d never been as big on Quidditch as the rest, preferring the muggle sport of football. She was instead talking with Remus although Harriet couldn’t hear what they discussed. Ronnie was giving Remus a slightly sceptical look, but Remus was smiling at her kindly, in much the same expression he’d worn when talking to Harriet in the tent.

“Look, souvenirs,” Scott suddenly said excitedly.

Sure enough, there was a wave of souvenir venders Apparating up and down the thoroughfare which went right past their tents. There were shining rosettes in each of the teams’ colours that squealed the names of the teams’ players in high-pitched voices. There were hats in shamrock green for Ireland and scarves in the colours of the Bulgarian flag. There were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew. There were also little moving models of the players. Ronnie was looking at the figurines of Krum with interest, though was stealing glances at Dora the whole time before buying one and pocketing it as discretely as she could.

Harriet spotted the best of all, however. A few carts down was a rack of brass binoculars covered in assortments of dials and nobs.

“Omnioculars,” the vendor said eagerly. “Zoom in and out of course, but can also replay action, play action in slow motion, and do play by play breakdowns. A bargain, ten galleons each!”

Scott bought a pair for himself and Kieran. Dora bought one for herself. Marcus already had a pair from the previous matches, which didn’t please the vendor, especially when Ronnie moaned about not having any more money.

Harriet smiled. “Three pair!” she said, which cheered the vendor up greatly.

“No, that’s okay,” Ronnie said. She was always sensitive about the subject of money.

“Well, this’ll be your Christmas present then,” Harriet said smiling. “Better?”

Ronnie grinned taking the omnioculars from Harriet. “Better.”

They returned to the tents, their moneybags lightened considerably, when a deep, booming gong rang somewhere in the distance. At the same time, green and red lanterns illuminated themselves in the trees, lighting the path through the woods to the stadium.

“It’s time!” Mr Weasley said hopping to his feet again. “Let’s go!”

Mr Weasley led the way. They could hear the sound of thousands of people on all sides of them walking and chatting. The excitement was so infectious that Harriet couldn’t help but grin. After another twenty minutes, they finally emerged upon the clearing with the stadium.

Harriet gasped. The stadium was enormous and shone bright gold. It was the biggest building Harriet had ever seen in her life.

Marcus gave a little laugh. “Lemme guess, Flamel family donation?” he said nudging Dora’s arm.

Dora smiled. “Yep. How do you think we got tickets for the rest of us to be in the box?”

Marcus smiled. “Wicked.”

Dora looked rather flattered.

They met up with Kieran’s parents and Ginny. Ginny seemed a bit sad that she got to go to the top box while her friend Luna had to go to a lower seat, but she came all the same.

Harriet looked around confused. “Where are Scott’s parents?”

“They’re back home with the girls,” Scott explained.

“Couldn’t they come too?”

“Well, not exactly,” Scott said. “The Ministry still thinks it’s not safe enough for them to go around in public with Kinney on the loose… so my parents stayed home with them instead.”

Finally, they made it to the entrance. It was slow moving getting through the doors. Teams of Ministry wizards were inspecting everyone entering the stadium. They were waving golden rods up and down everyone going through the line. Harriet recognized the rods. The watch-wizard at the Ministry of Magic had used one when they had gone to give their testimonies to the Wizengamot.

“Prime seats!” said the Ministry witch who took their tickets at the entrance. “Top box! Straight upstairs you lot, as high as you can go. Enjoy!”

The families filed up the stairs. It was packed and slow going at first, but the higher they got the thinner the crowd on the stairs became. Harriet had the strong desire to run the rest of the way. She did feel disappointment when Daniel, Remus and Kieran’s parents broke off to head to their lower seats. It seemed only Mr Weasley and Dora’s parents were accompanying them to the top box.

Finally, they arrived. The top box was full of purple and gold chairs. Looking to either side, Harriet realized they were located halfway between the two sets of goalposts. Harriet hurried to the edge and leaned over, gasping in amazement at the sight. The stadium was already almost full, a moving mass of changing colours as the witches and wizards took their seats. The pitch looked to be made of green velvet from this height. Directly across from them, a large billboard was flashing advertisements just like at Muggle sporting events.

_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family – safe, reliable, and with In-built Anti-Buglar buzzer_

_Mrs Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!_

_Gladrags Wizardwear – London, Paris, Hogsmeade…_

Harriet grinned and looked around the box. It was almost empty still, with one exception. There was a house-elf sitting in the seat almost directly behind Harriet. Unlike Dobby, this house-elf wasn’t wearing normal clothes, and instead wore a tea-towel it had fashioned into a toga. The mark of a house-elf that had not been freed. It was sitting and covering its eyes, but between its hands Harriet could see a nose the size and shape of a tomato.

“Oh, hello there,” Harriet said cheerfully.

The little elf lifted one of its hands just enough to reveal it also had large eyes like Dobby’s, although this elf’s were brown.

“H-hello, Miss,” the little elf said. Its voice was even squeakier than Dobby’s had been. Harriet deduced that this one just might be a girl.

“What’s your name?” Harriet asked. The rest of her friends turned now looking at the new elf with interest.

“W-Winky, Miss, Winky the house-elf,” Winky replied, covering her eyes once more. Harriet found this odd. The box wasn’t very brightly lit yet.

“Are you alright?” Ginny asked. Clearly she’d noted the same thing.

“Oh yes, young Miss, Winky is fine. Winky does not like heights at all, Miss.”

“Then why are you here in the top box?” Kieran asked.

“Master sent Winky to save him a seat. My master is very busy at the moment.”

“Winky?” Dora asked, thinking hard as if she’d heard that name before. “Ohhhhhh, I know you. You’re Crouch’s elf, aren’t you?”

“Ohhhh, right,” Scott said cottoning on.

“Oh, yes Miss,” Winky replied.

“How’d you know that?” Ronnie asked.

“Crouch sometimes sends her to deliver important mail that’s too sensitive to be sent by owls,” Scott explained.

“And you is Master McIntyre who is now master of Dobby,” Winky said.

“Uh, well no we’re not his masters,” Scott said. “We don’t own him, he works for us.”

Winky blinked and actually let her hands fall. She gave Scott such a look of bemusement that Scott might as well have told her that he liked to fly on brooms upside down wearing a pair of underwear on his head with two pencils up his nose.

“That’s a bit of a foreign concept to most house-elves,” Scott explained to the rest in an undertone. “Trust me, we love Dobby, but by house-elf standards he’s a bit of an outlier.”

“You mean you is paying Dobby for his work, sir?” Winky asked, scandalized.

“Well, yeah,” Scott admitted.

Winky tutted shaking her head. “Poor Dobby; that is no life for a house-elf, sir. No pride in his work for that! Being _paid_ ,” Winky spat, as if this was the most distasteful thing imaginable. “Not like Miss Dora and her family’s elves.”

Dora suddenly looked awkward as Hermione gave her a hard look.

“What, and he’d have been better off with the Malfoys being told to shut his hands in oven doors all the time just for the fun of it?” Harriet snapped. She didn’t know what was making her so irritable with the elf. Aside from the fact that even if Dobby hadn’t done her many favours during his time with the Malfoys, he certainly hadn’t deserved what they had put him through.

Winky simply scowled at Harriet. “And you is Harriet Potter, Miss. You is causing all sorts of troubles for my master, Miss!”

“Trouble?” Harriet asked, quite taken aback.

Winky suddenly looked horrified. “Winky should say no more, Miss! Winky has said too much already. Please do not talk to Winky anymore, Miss.”

Winky covered her eyes once more and fell silent. Harriet and her friends all gave each other very confused looks and slowly turned back around.

“Well, that was different,” Ronnie muttered.

“And I thought Dobby was weird,” Harriet said.

“Well, he is,” Dora whispered. “That’s what most house-elves are like.”

“They’re bred to be,” Scott explained. “No one knows when exactly they started, but most house-elves are completely subservient to their owners like that.”

“Honestly,” Dora said. “Snickers would probably cut out his own lungs to give you if you asked…”

“That’s horrible!” Hermione spluttered.

“Oh like I actually would!” Dora snapped back, offended.

Scott sighed. “But it’s really hard to undo after so long. And with magical attitudes what they are…”

“So most families like ours just treat them the best we can. I mean… he’s not exactly great, but from all I can tell Crouch is really nice to Winky.”

Harriet distracted herself by looking around the box some more. It was then she noticed that it wasn’t just them and Winky anymore. A small group of three people were sitting in the very back row. Two were wearing black robes and had their hoods up. The third, sitting right in the middle, was wearing robes of an iridescent blue. Harriet got the distinct impression that the other two in black were bodyguards.

Harriet squinted at the man. She was having a hard time telling which was whiter; his hair, or his skin. His eyes were a dazzling blue as he looked over the grounds with an imperious look. Harriet tilted her head. It wasn’t just his odd skin that caught her attention. There was something off about his face, but she just couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

Harriet’s attention was torn away by some commotion from the entrance to the box. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic of Britain had arrived. He was talking with a small contingent of people and waving his arms animatedly as if miming as he spoke to another man dressed in immaculate red robes. Harriet took this to be the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, who by the looks of it did not speak English very well.

Fudge quickly moved over to Harriet and smiled. “Ah, and here is one of our great national treasures, Minister,” Fudge said. Harriet went very pink. “Harriet Potter. The girl who vanquished _You-Know-Who_.”

The minister spotted Harriet’s scar and comprehension swept across his face. He leaned over and chatted in another language with the woman to his left.

“Well, that was easy enough. Harriet, this is Minister Oblansk, er, Obalonsk? The Minister for Magic for Bulgaria, and his guest, Minister Grigescu, the Minister for Magic for Romania. Ah! And here’s Lucius at last.”

Harriet felt her heart jump unpleasantly. Moving towards the empty seats behind Mr Weasley and Mr and Mrs Flamel, came Dobby’s old owners, the Malfoy family. Harriet, was revisited with the unpleasant memories of hiding from Mr Malfoy and Draco in the cupboard at Borgin and Burke’s two summers ago, as she looked up at the blonde haired man who Draco so resembled. Draco’s mother was also blonde, and Harriet supposed she would have been quite lovely, if not for the fact she bore an expression suggesting there was a foul smell in the air.

“Ah, Fudge,” Mr Malfoy said holding out a hand to the Minister. “How are you? I don’t believe my wife, Narcissa, and son, Draco, have had the pleasure of meeting you, yet?”

“How do you do, how do you do,” Fudge said cheerfully. “And might I introduce you to Ministers Obelisk and Grigesky of Bulgaria and Romania.”

Both Ministers gave Fudge very cool looks. Dora however snorted a derisive laugh.

“Let’s see, who else? Ah, I daresay you know Arthur Weasley and of course the Flamels.”

This triggered a very awkward moment as Mr Flamel and Mr Malfoy exchanged very cold looks. As far as Harriet knew, the very last time that Mr Malfoy had met with Mr Weasley and the Flamels, Mr Flamel had given Mr Malfoy a bloody-nose.

Mr Malfoy held his tongue however and instead looked along the row. His eyes lingered on Hermione and Marcus and a cold sneer flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant once his eyes fell on Harriet. He smiled again as he saw her, and while it wasn’t a sneer, it gave Harriet a chill all the same.

“Ah, Miss Potter,” Mr Malfoy said. “I believe you are acquainted with my son, Draco?” Mr Malfoy asked, putting a hand on Draco’s shoulder and bringing him to the forefront. Judging by the look on Draco’s face, he wanted to be anywhere else in the entire world except being put on display at that very moment.

“Y-yes?” Harriet said, not knowing what else to say.

“Doesn’t Miss Potter look nice, Draco?” Mr Malfoy asked.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. All she was wearing at the moment was a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a tee-shirt and trainers.

“Yes,” Draco said. His voice sounded very forced. “You look nice, Harriet.”

“Um, thanks,” Harriet said, though she didn’t feel very appreciative. Draco hadn’t even looked at her. Then again, she wouldn’t have felt very appreciative even if he had.

“Why don’t you sit with Miss Potter and her friends to enjoy the match?” Mr Malfoy suggested.

Draco didn’t say anything in response. Instead he gave his mother the slightest of glances. Harriet saw his mother give him the faintest of nods. Draco sighed and moved towards them. Harriet was grateful that she was sitting near the middle of the group. However, Draco seemed a little relieved as he moved to the end and sat at the end farthest from his parents, next to Marcus and Kieran. Mr Malfoy looked irritable, as though he was going to say something, but Mrs Malfoy put a hand on his arm and he simply glowered and sat down instead.

“What’s that about?” Hermione whispered.

Harriet knew full well what that was about. She’d never forget Lucius Malfoy telling Draco that he needed to be “overly fond” of Harriet.

“I’ll tell you later,” Harriet said as more people started streaming into the box. She noted two other teens around their age enter the box as well, though she didn’t recognize them. The odd thing was they seemed to be wearing uniforms which Harriet found strange given that it was summer. Unfortunately, they sat near the rear of the box, near the mysterious trio from earlier. Neither of the teens looked that thrilled about the seating arrangement.

Finally, Ludo Bagman himself came bounding into the top box. His face was shining with excitement. “Everybody ready? Minister, ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, Ludo,” Fudge said, shifting comfortably in his chair, which was the largest and cushiest.

Bagman beamed as he whipped out his wand and pointed it to his throat. “ _Sonorus_ ,” he said. Instantly, his voice boomed so loud he was easily heard over the dull roar of the crowds below.

“Ladies and gentleman! Welcome! Welcome to the four-hundred twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

The crowd below doubled the volume of its cheers at once. The crowds were a sea of little flapping Bulgarian and Irish flags, creating a cacophony of discordant national anthems for the two teams. Across from the top box, the billboard that was now displaying an advertisement for Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans wiped itself clean and now read:

_BULGARIA: ZERO_

_IRELAND: ZERO_

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce the Bulgarian Team Mascots!”

“Mascots?” Ginny asked over the road of the Bulgarian supporters.

“Oh yes,” Mr Weasley replied. “Teams traditionally bring creatures from their homes to put on shows. I wonder what the Bulgarians—ahhhhh, _Veela_.”

“Oh no, not again,” Marcus muttered and quickly stuffed his fingers in his ears.

Harriet puzzled at him but quickly turned her attention to the pitch. The Veela had arrived. A hundred of them, walking so gracefully they appeared to be gliding. Harriet was mesmerized. They were women. The most beautiful women that Harriet had ever seen, though they couldn’t be human. Their hair seemed to be blowing around as if in a breeze, though there didn’t seem to be one. They were also quite literally glowing.

The Veela began to dance. As they did, Harriet felt a pleasant sensation all over. It was like a warm hug, a soft embrace as though someone was holding her tenderly from behind, whispering gentle promises of safety, love and care into her ear. She simply kept watching, smiling dazedly. She turned and watched with disconnected amusement as Fred, George, Kieran, Scott, Draco, Ronnie, and Dora all slowly rose to their feet.

“What _are_ you all doing?” Hermione asked, her voice breaking Harriet from her stupor.

Harriet looked around. Kieran was trying to swing his bad leg over the edge of the box. Scott looked as though he was getting ready to dive off a springboard. Fred and George were fighting each other. Dora and Ronnie were just staring down at the Veela, who had finally stopped dancing, both breathing heavily. Draco was ripping his Irish shamrock hat to pieces.

Harriet blinked. Hermione had not seemed to be affected at all by the Veela as she tutted and reached over, pulling both Kieran and Scott back into their seats. Dora and Ronnie both seemed to rouse themselves at the same time and trading sheepish grins before sitting back down again.

Down below, the crowd began to roar again, angrily. They did not want the Veela to go. To Harriet’s great surprise, Mr Weasley actually reached over and nudged Draco’s shoulder. Draco paused in destroying his Ireland hat and looked around in bemusement.

“You’ll be wanting that, once Ireland have had their say,” Mr Weasley said, kindly.

Draco stared back at Mr Weasley, as though no one had ever really spoken that kindly to him before in his life. Mr Malfoy looked outraged that Mr Weasley had even touched his son but once again Mrs Malfoy put a hand on his arm and Mr Malfoy simply scowled and resumed watching the pitch.

“And now!” roared Bagman, “kindly put your wands in the air for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

Harriet gaped as what looked like a giant green and gold comet came hurtling into the stadium. It circled the stadium one before splitting in two. A great rainbow shot between the two circling lights, rotating round and round. The rainbow vanished and the orbs reconnected, now turning into a great shamrock. It flew through the air and passed low over the crowd. It seemed to be raining gold, and sure enough as it passed over them, a shower of golden coins rained down on everyone’s heads.

Ronnie was leaping with excitement as she snatched up as much of the coins as she could get her hands on. Harriet however was still watching the shamrock. As it passed, she noted that it was actually made up of what had to be thousands of tiny men, no more than a foot tall. All of them we wearing green jackets with red waistcoats, and carrying tiny golden lanterns.

“Leprechauns!” Mr Weasley exclaimed excitedly.

Down below, the crowd that had once been cheering the Veela were now scrambling around to collect as many gold coins as they could. Even Ronnie stuffed a handful into Harriet’s hands as repayment for the omnioculars. Finally, the great shamrock disintegrated as the leprechauns settled onto the pitch opposite the Veela.

“And now, ladies and gentleman, kindly welcome the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!”

Seven scarlet players shot onto the pitch one after the other. As they did, Bagman shouted each of their names.

“Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand _Krum!_ ”

“There he is! There he is!” Dora gasped bouncing up and down excitedly, watching through her omnioculars.

Now Harriet could finally get the full measure of Krum. He looked much older than eighteen, with his hooked nose and thick eyebrows. What she noticed most however, was the fact that he was in fact a very good flyer as he skimmed the crowd over the Bulgarian supporters so closely that Harriet was amazed he didn’t clip anyone with his toes.

“And now, please greet the Irish National Quidditch Team!” Bagman’s voice boomed. “Presenting, Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Annnnnnnnnd Lynch!”

The green blurs that were the Irish players almost made the Bulgarians look like they were standing still. Harriet spun the little dial on the omnioculars that slowed down play. Sure enough, on each of the Irish players’ brooms was the golden inlay that read _Firebolt_.

“You know, I’d say the Irish are going to win now,” Kieran said. “See how the Irish fly as a team. I mean even Lynch is flying with the rest of the team.”

“Since when do you know anything about Quidditch, O’Brien?” Malfoy asked, coldly.

“Oh get stuffed,” Ronnie grumbled.

“And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!”

Down the row, Marcus and Draco both moaned.

“Mostafa, he refed that awful Netherlands/Germany match,” Malfoy complained.

“You saw that one too?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah, you?” Malfoy replied.

“Yeah…”

“Wait, did you two just agree on something?” Dora asked, a mix of amazement and amusement on her face.

Malfoy and Marcus both fell silent and scowled at the pitch. Harriet felt her lips give the faintest twitches of amusement before she returned her attention to the match. Mostafa was wearing bright gold robes, and carrying the box of Quidditch balls under one arm, and his broom in the other. He set the crate down, mounted his broom, and kicked the crate open. At once, the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the tiny Golden Snitch shot into the air. Mostafa kicked off after them and as he did he gave a sharp blast on his whistle.

“And they’re off!” Bagman cried. “And it’s Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!”

Harriet’s mouth fell open. She had never seen Quidditch played like this before. The Quaffle was moving so fast that Bagman only had time to say the players’ names as they caught it. The Bulgarians certainly weren’t slouches, but the Irish in particular were incredible. Harriet spun the slow dial back down and hit the ‘play by play’ button. Glittering purple letters flashed across the lenses, identifying the manoeuvres being shown.

The title “ _Hawkshead Attacking Formation”_ flashed on the screen as the three Irish chasers bore down on the Bulgarians. Troy was in the centre, followed closely by Mullet and Moran. Then came the words “ _Polskoff Ploy”_ as Troy darted upwards. Ivanova followed but Troy dropped the Quaffle to Moran. A Bludger, hit by Volkov, succeeded in getting Moran to drop the Quaffle, which was caught by Levski—

“TROY SCORES!” Bagman shouted, even louder than before in his excitement. “Ten-Zero to Ireland!”

“Wait, what?” Harriet said. “But, Levski’s got the Quaffle!”

“Harriet, you’re in slow motion,” Hermione pointed out.

Harriet glowered, angry with herself and spun the dial back to normal speed as the leprechauns formed a giant shamrock in the air once more to celebrate the goal.

As Harriet watched, Harriet had to admit that Kieran had a point about the way the Irish played. They were seamless in their manoeuvres, almost as though they could read each other’s minds.

However, as the match wore on Bulgaria’s beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, were starting to learn how to read the Irish team’s moves. Finally, they managed to scatter the oncoming Irish and Ivanova managed to catch the Quaffle and successfully put it through one of Ireland’s hoops, scoring Bulgaria’s first goal and making the score thirty-ten.

“Fingers in ears!” Mr Weasley shouted.

In spite of herself, Harriet did so as well. The effect of the dancing Veela was almost non-existent this time. The Veela stopped and Harriet took her fingers out of her ears and picked up her omnioculars again.

“Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova—oh, I say!”

A collective gasp passed over the crowd as the Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted earthwards, passing right through the Chasers. It looked as though they were in a perfect freefall. Harriet was watching for the Snitch.

“They’re going to crash!” Hermione shrieked.

She was half-right. At the very last second, his toes skimming the grass as he peeled off, Krum managed to pull out. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a resounding thud. The Irish supporters groaned in disappointment and worry.

Charlie whistled. “ _The Wronski Feint_ ,” he said. “Even I was never fool enough to try that one out.”

Charlie leaned over and patted Ginny’s shoulder. “He’ll be alright. He just got ploughed, which was what Krum was after, of course.”

Harriet watched the replay in the omnioculars as the medi-wizards tended to Lynch. Krum hadn’t seen the Snitch at all. He was attempting to get Lynch to copy him and get distracted before running into the ground.

Krum was good. Incredible even. He looked weightless as he spiralled downwards with Lynch. Harriet returned the dial to normal and watched Krum. He was looking around below him, flying over a hundred feet in the air. She had to admit, it was clever, but a dirtier tactic than she would ever use. Krum was using the time Lynch was being treated to look for the Snitch.

The Irish fans cheered as Lynch remounted his broomstick and kicked off once more. Mostafa blew his whistle again and play resumed. If the Bulgarians had hoped to slow the Irish down, they were sadly mistaken. The Irish fans were heartened by Lynch’s revival, and the Irish players were only spurred on to play even harder. Indeed, it almost became painful to watch as it took only fifteen minutes for Ireland to score ten more goals.

The Bulgarians were starting to get desperate. There was a penalty when the Bulgarian keeper rammed the Irish chaser Mullet, using his elbow. After Mostafa blew his whistle, the leprechauns flew up to form “HA HA HA!” in the air. The Veela began to dance again in retaliation. Prepared for it now, Harriet was able to fight off the soporific effect of the Veela’s dance.

She and Hermione shared body shaking laughter as Mostafa flew down and landed before the Veela, strutting about in front of them and flexing his muscles (or lack thereof).

“Now we can’t have that!” Bagman said, laughing heartily. “Someone slap the referee.”

One of the medi-wizards, his fingers stuffed in his ears, ran out onto the pitch and kicked Mostafa hard on the shin. Mostafa was brought to his senses as he hopped up and down on one foot, clutching his kicked shin and thanking the medi-wizard. Then he rounded on the Veela.

“Good lord!” Bagman boomed. “It looks as though Mostafa is trying to send off the Bulgarian Team Mascots! Never seen the like of that before! This is going to get nasty!”

It did. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, flew down and started arguing furiously with Mostafa and waving their hands angrily at the leprechauns who had now formed “HEE HEE HEE.” Mostafa wasn’t swayed, and pointed into the air, indicating that the two players should get flying again. When they didn’t, he gave two more blasts on his whistle.

“Two more penalties to Ireland!” Bagman roared. “There goes Volkov and Vulchanov. Troy’s taken the first penalty.”

The play had now become more ferocious than ever. The Bulgarians were getting more desperate still, especially when Dimitrov drew another foul by deliberately flying into Moran and nearly knocking her off her broom.

In response, the leprechauns rose into the air and formed a giant hand giving the Bulgarians the two-fingered salute. When the Veela didn’t get the gesture, the hand resorted to just holding up the middle-finger instead.

That one the Veela got.

Harriet’s eyes widened in shock at what happened next. The Veela didn’t look like women anymore. Instead, long, scaly wings burst from their backs and their faces turned into the heads of vultures and they were throwing handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.

“And that’s why you should never go for looks alone,” Mr Weasley shouted over the cacophony of noise coming from the pitch.

Ministry wizards had poured onto the pitch in an attempt to separate the Veela and the leprechauns. Harriet had returned her attention to the match going on above. The Quaffle was nothing more than a red streak as it shot between the players. Ireland scored again when one of the Irish beaters managed to hit a Bludger at Krum.

Krum, who had just dodged another ball of fire from one of his team’s own mascots, didn’t see it coming. It hit him full in the face. Harriet and most of the crowd, even the Irish, groaned. Krum’s nose looked broken and blood was pouring down over his lips, chin, and robes. There was a roar of calls for timeout, but Mostafa wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was too busy trying to put out the tail of his broom which had been set on fire by one of the Veela.

Just then, Harriet caught a streak of green in the corner of her eye and looked to see the Irish Seeker, Lynch, diving. It was no feint this time, Lynch was after the Snitch.

Below, the Irish supporters had caught on and were cheering Lynch on. Somehow, despite the blood, Krum was on Lynch’s tail. Now the two were level as they once more hurtled straight at the ground.

“Oh no,” Harriet said and sure enough, with another sickening thud, Lynch hit the ground. She couldn’t hear the thud over the roar of noise.

“Where’s the Snitch?” Charlie shouted, looking around. “Did it get away?”

“No!” Harriet shouted. “Krum got it! It’s over!”

Krum was circling the pitch, his fist holding the Golden Snitch stuck high in the air over his head. Across from them, the scoreboard now read:

 

_BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED SIXTY_

_IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY_

 

The crowd didn’t seem to realize what had happened at first. Then, like the starting of a jumbo jet, the roar began.

“IRELAND WINS!” Bagman bellowed. The noise was so loud that even he was difficult to hear now. “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS! Good lord! I don’t know if anyone was expecting that!”

“He was so brave,” Hermione said. She was looking down at Krum who was finally letting the medi-wizards tend to his nose. On the sidelines, the Veela had returned to their usual forms, looking dejected and forlorn. But beautifully so.

“Vell, ve fought bravely,” said a gloomy voice from nearby.

“You can speak English!” Fudge said.

Harriet turned. The Bulgarian and Romanian ministers were giving Fudge very amused looks.

“Yes, ve can,” said the Romanian Minister.

“But you were making me mime everything all day!”

“Vell, it vas very funny,” admitted the Bulgarian minister. He didn’t look at all sorry.

Harriet was distracted again as the Quidditch World Cup trophy itself was brought into the top box. It was shortly followed by the Bulgarian team. Krum was the last into the box. His hooked nose had been returned to normal, but he had two black eyes and his robes were still soaked in blood. Harriet also noted that he still had the Snitch wriggling in his hand.

Next came the Irish. Lynch looked far the worse for wear than Krum. He was being supported by Moran and Connolly and was smiling vacantly as if dazed. The stadium erupted in applause again and the Irish team quickly mounted their brooms, taking off for another lap of honour. Lynch was riding on the back of Connolly’s broom, grinning stupidly.

“ _Quietus_ ,” Bagman said, returning his voice to normal volume. “They’ll be talking about this one for years. Really unexpected twist, that.”

His voice had gone quite hoarse. He turned around smiling but looked taken aback as he found himself face to face with Fred and George, who each had their hands outstretched and expected.

“Oh yes… I owe you… how much?”

## * * * *

“Girls! Girls! Wake up! This is urgent!”

Harriet grunted. “S’goin’ on?” she asked rubbing her eyes.

As she woke, she became aware of odd noises. There wasn’t singing anymore. Instead, Harriet heard the terrible sound of screaming and people running.

Harriet slid out of bed and reached for her clothes.

“No, Harriet! No time! Just grab your jacket and get outside, now!”

Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione, Dora, and Ginny all looked at each other and did as told. The sight that greeted them as they got outside was horrible. People were fleeing madly into the woods. Harriet looked to see what they were fleeing from. She couldn’t make it out at first. There were flashes of light and loud bangs, intermixed with the screams and what sounded like drunken laughter.

Finally, a flash of bright green light illuminated the scene. There was another crowd of wizards, all holding their wands in the air, tightly packed together, and slowly marching across the field. Harriet couldn’t make out any faces, then realized they were all wearing masks and hoods. High above them, four figures were spinning and flipping around, being contorted into grotesque shapes. They looked like reverse marionettes, with the puppeteers beneath and the puppets above.

As the crowd moved, more and more wizards were joining them. The marchers were blasting tents out of the way as they went, and setting others on fire. As they passed one of the burning tents, Harriet finally could make out the floating figures. Harriet recognized one as Mr Roberts and she felt a wave of horrified disgust pass over her. The other three looked to be his wife and children. One of the matchers was making Mrs Roberts’ nightdress fly up over her head. Another was making the smallest Roberts child spin like a top.

“Oh Merlin,” Dora said, aghast.

“That’s sick,” Ronnie said. “That’s really sick!”

At that moment, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Marcus all came stumbling out of the boys’ tent. Kieran and Scott had gone back to their families’ tents. Bill, Charlie, and Percy had dressed, and their wands were drawn.

“We’re going to help the Ministry!” Mr Weasley said. “You all get into the woods! Stay hidden and _stay together!_ ”

The four adults ran off in the direction of the marchers. Fred grabbed hold of Ginny’s hand and they all turned as one and ran into the woods. It was a total panic. The lanterns that had lit the path were out. They were jostled around by people rushing past them. Children were crying.

It was then that Harriet noticed it. They had gotten separated from Fred, George, and Ginny. She looked around, worrying. Where had they gone? And what about Kieran and Scott? Had they gotten away too?

“What’s going on?” Hermione said looking around.

“I dunno but screw this underage magic shit,” Dora said and drew her wand. “ _Lumos_!”

“Language, Flamel,” said an unctuous voice from nearby.

They spun around. Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were standing nearby. Zabini was leaning against a tree, his arms folded, smiling at them wickedly. Draco wasn’t looking at them at all. He was looking out on the clearing blankly.

“What the hell do you two want?” Dora asked, her wand still pointed at the two.

“You’ll want to watch that tongue, Flamel,” Zabini said. “It’ll get you into trouble.”

“Get Granger out of here,” Draco said abruptly. “They’re coming this way.”

“Yeah, they are after _Muggles_ after all,” Zabini sneered.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Draco’s tone hadn’t matched Zabini’s. It was more a warning than a taunt. Zabini however didn’t seem to notice.

“Hermione’s a witch!” Marcus snarled.

“Whatever,” Zabini said dismissively. “You’d better keep yours down too, Van Der Lakk. If you think they can’t spot a Mud—”

“Zabini,” Draco said. His tone seemed sharp and Zabini looked at him quizzically.

Draco worked his jaw watching the marchers in the field. “Come on,” Draco said. “We can get a better view from over there,” he said pointing.

Zabini scowled but followed as Draco headed off, his shoulders hunched. The group stared after the two as they disappeared into the shadows of the trees.

“What was that about?” Marcus asked, finally lowering his wand.

“I don’t know,” Dora said, lowering hers as well.

“Malfoy’s been weird lately… has been all year. Which… I suppose is a good thing…”

“Let’s keep moving,” Hermione said as the bangs got louder. Harriet supposed Zabini’s taunt about the crowd being able to tell Hermione was a muggle-born had worried her.

They headed deeper into the woods and two figures stepped out into the path in front of them. “Hello?” asked a girl’s voice. “Professor Howe?”

They paused. “Uh, no?” Harriet replied.

“Oh,” the girl said and they stepped closer. “You lot go to Hogwarts?”

It was a boy and girl. The girl was tall and willowy, with long blonde hair, an oval face, wide blue eyes, and looked a bit older than them. The boy however looked to be about their age, and had curly, strawberry blonde hair and grey or green eyes, Harriet couldn’t tell in the darkness. Harriet didn’t recognize either of them at first, but then it dawned on her. They were the two other teens who had been in the top box wearing their school uniforms.

“Yeah,” Marcus replied. “What about you two?”

“Rathlin,” the boy replied. He held out a hand.

“Do you two know what’s going on?” Dora asked.

“Professor Howe said it was former Death Eaters. He sent us in here while he went to help apprehend them.”

Harriet frowned. Professor Howe had been around, had students in the top box, but hadn’t come to see her? She was shaken from this slightly selfish thought by another loud bang from the camp site.

“Anyway, umm, I’m Portia, Portia Figg, and this is Gaius Fearghal.”

Something about the name Figg triggered something in Harriet’s mind, but she didn’t have the time to really place it. Harriet and her friends all introduced themselves back. She sighed as she put up with the expected looks of recognition at her name from both.

“Well, let’s get a bit further away still,” Marcus said as another bang sounded off.

“We should stay here,” Portia said. “Professor Howe told us not to go too far. He said he’d be back for us soon.”

“Okay, good luck,” Ronnie said.

“If you see two boys about our age, one with a walking stick, they’re friends of ours,” Harriet said.

They headed deeper into the woods. It was getting so dark now that even Dora’s wand wasn’t quite bright enough. They drew out the rest of their wands, except for Harriet.

“Oh no!” Harriet exclaimed. “I can’t find my wand!”

“What?” Ronnie asked.

The rest all turned their wands on the ground around Harriet’s feet. They spent what felt like ten minutes looking around but searching but found nothing. Harriet groaned.

“It’s probably back in the tent,” Hermione said.

Harriet groaned louder. “You’re right, I had it in the pocket of my shorts but Mr Weasley wouldn’t let us get dressed properly.”

She was starting to feel very vulnerable. She’d never been without her wand. And to now be without it in a situation like this...

A rustling noise made them all spin around. As they watched, Winky the house-elf fought her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving slowly, as though something was trying to drag her backwards.

“Bad wizards!” she shouted in her squeaky little voice. “Bad, bad wizards! Winky is running! People high! High in the air! Winky must get out of the way!”

She disappeared again on the other side of the path, but Harriet could still hear her grunting and fighting against the invisible force that seemed to be holding her back.

“What was wrong with her?” Ronnie asked. “Why couldn’t she run right?”

“She probably didn’t ask permission to hide,” Harriet said.

“Well, no, I don’t think so,” Dora said. “Unless Crouch told her to stay where she was… they can do most anything unless you tell them not to.”

“Well, even then, they can break the rules, though they have to punish themselves,” Harriet said.

“That’s awful!” Hermione said. “How can people stand for it? And your family has three!”

“I told you Hermione, it’s not that simple!” Dora retorted. “And you really think I or anyone else in my family would ever tell them to hurt themselves or anything like that?”

Hermione didn’t respond, but she didn’t look happy either. There were more bangs and light and another bout of screams. Marcus gave Hermione a nervous look.

“Uh, let’s just keep moving,” he said.

“Hallo?” asked an irritable voice. “Who is that?”

The teens looked around. A tall man was walking towards them. He had white hair and a goatee. He was giving them a very disapproving look.

“What are you children doing all the way out here? Why are there no adults with you?”

“Uh… we were running from the riot, sir?” Marcus replied.

The man seemed rather unpleasant. His tone was cold and condescending. “Hogwarts students, are you?” he asked.

They nodded.

“Typical, running about scared like this. I would not put up with this from my own students.”

“Well those are Death Eaters and some of us are Muggle-borns,” Marcus snapped. “And that’s Harriet Potter!”

Karkaroff’s eyes widened as he looked down at Harriet. He curled his goatee, looking at her thoughtfully. “Harriet Potter, you say? Yes, we must get you to safety at once. Well, come, follow me.”

Harriet and the rest all gave each other quizzical looks but followed.

“Who is this clown?” Dora asked under her breath.

“He’s Igor Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang,” Hermione replied. She was giving Karkaroff’s back a very cold look.

They kept following Karkaroff. Harriet was starting to get suspicious. Karkaroff had made a show of acting brave and in charge, but she couldn’t help but notice the way that he kept stealing glances back at the sounds of the riot. And every time he did, he glanced down at Harriet, thoughtfully.

“I say we ditch him,” Dora whispered shrewdly. “I don’t like the look of him…”

“Me either,” Harriet agreed.

She didn’t like the looks that Karkaroff was giving her at all. He wasn’t looking at her as though he was wanting to do anything to her himself. The feeling that look gave her was more as though she was a piece of property… something trade-able. She glanced back at the campsite and shivered. She wished she had her wand with her more than ever.

Finally, they reached an isolated clearing. They could barely hear the sounds of the riot now.

“We will probably be safe here,” Karkaroff said. “We will hear anyone coming a mile off—”

“Who’s that?!”

Everyone jumped. Ludo Bagman had stepped out from behind a tree nearby. He’d lost all his boyish charm from before, Harriet noted. He now appeared very pale and strained. He didn’t seem fearful, more stressed and worried, even irritable that they had intruded.

“What are you lot doing all the way out here alone?”

“Mister Bagman!” Karkaroff exclaimed. “What are _you_ doing all the way out here when there is a riot going on, on your Ministry’s watch?! Is this how the ministry of this country behaves? Allowing such chaos to occur!”

“What?!” Bagman exclaimed.

“Yes, you fool! On the campsite,” Karkaroff went on. “Death Eaters are running amok!”

“DAMN THEM!” Bagman swore and Disapparated at once with a loud crack.

“Not exactly on top of things, is he,” Hermione observed.

“No… he was a great Beater though,” Ronnie said.

“Mr Bagman?” called another voice.

“How many people are out here this far?!” Karkaroff cried.

“Who’s that?” asked the new voice. “That’s not you Mr Bagman, is it?”

Another figure stepped into the clearing. It was a young man wearing Auror robes. Ronnie furrowed her brow and tilted her head looking at the man.

“No you imbecile, do I sound like a fool like Ludo Bagman,” Karkaroff snapped. “And who are you?”

The Auror looked taken aback at Karkaroff’s rudeness, but recovered himself. “Name’s Davidson, sir. Joshua Davidson. I’m from the Auror office. I was sent to find Mr Bagman when the riot broke out. You lot haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Why yes we have,” Karkaroff grumbled. “He was hiding out here like a coward and he Disapparated the moment we informed him of the riot. He left not even a minute ago.”

Joshua’s face fell. He suddenly looked as though he was holding back anger. “Dammit!” he spat. “Oh of course, I see, spend a half hour blundering around the damn woods looking for him and he’s gone back. First the riot and now this!”

Even Karkaroff was looking at Joshua with raised eyebrows. Joshua took a deep breath and smiled pleasantly once more. “Sorry about that. I’m sure you understand my frustration. It’s a bit like trying to find a needle in a haystack out here only to find out once you found the damn thing it vanished on you and you have to start all over again.”

“And what of my frustration, young man!” Karkaroff boomed. “I come all the way here to watch my star pupil perform, only to witness terribly biased judging in the match and now this riot has broken out and I cannot find Viktor anywhere and I find one of your ministry’s top men just hiding out here in the woods!”

Joshua was now giving Karkaroff a very appraising look.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, I didn’t get your name?”

“I am Igor Karkaroff!” Karkaroff declared. “Headmaster of Durmstrang and I demand explanations!”

Joshua gave a sigh of relief. Harriet found this reaction rather odd. Joshua’s eyes then drifted over the teens. His eyes settled on Harriet’s face and paused. Harriet prepared herself for the usual look of recognition and the eye-flick to her scar. But it didn’t come. Instead, he seemed to recognize her and simply smiled. He glanced back and forth between Harriet and Karkaroff as though sizing them up. He seemed to settle on Karkaroff.

“Oh jeez, oh I’m so glad to see you, sir,” Joshua said in a very relieved tone. “I was told to keep an eye out for important foreign guests as well. If you’ll come with me, I can take you to meet with the Minister. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know you’re safe.”

Karkaroff looked rather pleased and flattered. “Well, thank you very much—er—Auror. Lead on.”

Joshua smiled. The kids started to follow.

“Oh, ummm, you lot better stay here,” Joshua said.

“What? Why?” Dora asked, angrily.

“More Aurors are doing sweeps of the woods right now looking for campers. I’ll let them know your coordinates. Just with such an important person as Mr Karkaroff here, I really need to get him to safety right away. Sir, right this way.”

Joshua held out a hand pointing off into the darkness. Karkaroff threw his shoulders back importantly and headed off. Joshua followed, smiling pleasantly.

Harriet and the rest stared after the departing men. Their mouths were all hanging open. Had he really just taken Karkaroff and left them there?

“Is he seriously leaving us here?!” Dora asked, aghast.

“I… I don’t recognize him,” Ronnie finally spoke up.

Then, it happened in an instant. Just as he got to the end of the wand-light, Joshua paused. He turned and smiled back at them. However, it wasn’t Joshua’s face doing the smiling.

Harriet knew that face. It was a face from one of the most horrible experiences in her life. His face was round, and his skin pale. His cold eyes pierced her, not matching the smile on his lips. It was Solomon Kinney.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing after Karkaroff into the shadows.

“The hell?” Marcus asked.

“STOP HIM!” Harriet cried out.

“What?” Dora asked.

“Kinney! That was Solomon Kinney!”

Marcus gasped. “Mr Karkaroff!” he shouted and before anyone could stop him he ran off after the men. Harriet and Hermione started after him but just as he got to the edge of the trees where the men had vanished the forest in front of him was illuminated by a bright burst of greenlight and a roaring sound akin to a passing freight train. Harriet covered her eyes, and only barely registered the loud crack of someone Disapparating.

“Marcus!” Harriet could hear Hermione crying out.

Harriet blinked the blindness from her eyes, looking around. Everyone was huddled together nearby. She hurried over.

Marcus was sitting, clutching his legs tight to his chest, rocking slowly and staring blankly. Hermione was hugging him tight around the shoulders while Dora and Ronnie knelt beside him, looking on with worry.

“Dead… he’s dead…” Marcus muttered.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Hermione was whispering softly. Everyone was shaking.

“Killed him…” Marcus muttered. “He just… killed him…”

Harriet knelt beside Marcus too. Dora gave her a pained look.

“What the hell…?” she asked. “Death Eaters rioting… Kinney just murdered someone… what’s… how… just… _why_?!”

“I don’t know…” Ronnie replied. “You sure he’s dead…?”

Dora rubbed her arms, still shivering as she looked in the direction Karkaroff and Kinney had gone.

“I’m not gonna check,” Dora said.

“But, he could be hurt,” Hermione said.

Dora shook her head. “Not if that curse is what I think it was…”

“He just fell over…” Marcus went on. Clearly he wasn’t listening to anything anyone was saying. “Crumpled, just like…”

“Shhh!” Harriet hissed.

They fell silent and listened. It was hard to hear over Marcus’ muttering, but it sounded as though there were more footsteps approaching. Harriet now found herself wishing that not only did she have her wand, but her invisibility cloak as well. They kept as silent as they could, aside from Marcus’ muttering. The footsteps were passing them, heading in the direction that Kinney had taken Karkaroff. The footsteps were heavy and uneven.

There was a shout of surprise and the thud of someone falling. There were snarled curses and then more silence. Then, the laughter started. High, cold, maniacal laughter.

“ _MORSMORDRE!_ ”

Ronnie gave out a cry of shock as another burst of bright green light lit the scene. This time, it shot straight up into the air, high above the treetops. Harriet gasped as she watched. The green light had formed into a giant green skull. It looked to be made of emeralds as it rose higher. As if the sight wasn’t horrible enough, a long slender snake slid out of the mouth, like a horrible, writhing tongue. All around them, people began to scream louder than ever.

“Oh no, oh no oh no oh no!” Hermione was saying, her eyes wide with fear.

Next to her, Dora looked near panic.

“Oh god, we have to get out of here!” she tugged hard on Harriet’s arm. “We have to get _you_ out of here now!”

“What?” Harriet asked. “What is it?”

Hermione turned a horrified gaze on Harriet. “Harriet! That’s the Dark Mark! That’s _You-Know-Who_ ’s sign!”


	9. Aftermath

“It is important to remember that very often in life, the proper question is not “whether,” something will happen, but “how”.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“What, Voldemort?” Harriet asked.

“Come on!” Hermione exclaimed.

There was no time. At that moment, there was a ripple of popping noises. In the darkness, Harriet was just able to make out a group of twenty or so figures that had them almost completely surrounded. An instant later, Harriet realized that every one of the figures was raising a wand in their direction.

“DOWN!” Harriet shouted and threw herself upon the other four.

Dora shouted, but her protest was drowned out by the circle of wizards around them crying out at once. “ _STUPEFY!”_

Even though her eyes were shut, Harriet’s vision suddenly went red. Her scalp prickled as the energy of dozens of hexes flashed mere inches above their heads. Ronnie cried out in shock.

“STOP!” called a familiar voice. “STOP! That’s my daughter!”

“Harriet!?” cried another familiar voice.

The spells ceased. Harriet heard the sound of pounding feet. She lifted her head just in time for strong hands to take her by the shoulders and pull her to her feet.

“Harriet! Are you alright? You’re not hurt?”

Harriet shook her head as she looked up into Daniel’s pale stricken face. Remus was standing just behind Daniel, also looking pale and yet relieved at the sight of her. Next to them, Mr Weasley was fussing over Ronnie and Dora’s parents were inspecting Dora for injuries.

“Out of the way,” said another curt, angry voice.

Daniel’s face hardened as he rounded on the man walking towards them. Several of the newcomers had illuminated their wands and in their flickering lights, combined with the glow of the green skull and snake, Harriet recognized Barty Crouch storming towards them.

“Get out of it, Crouch,” Daniel snarled.

Crouch paid him no mind. “Which of you did it?” Crouch shouted, pointing at the floating skull. “Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?”

“We didn’t do that!” Dora protested, indignantly.

“Barty, you don’t seriously expect children to have conjured the Dark Mark?” another of the witches asked, trying to be reasonable.

“Who conjured it? Did you see them?” Mr Weasley asked, his voice much kinder.

“Who cares who conjured it?” Ronnie said, stamping a foot in frustration and pointing to the spot under the Mark. “He’s dead!” her voice shook, on the verge of hysteria. “Marcus is all frozen up!”

“What?” Mr Weasley asked, taken aback. “Who’s dead? Marcus, lad, what’s wrong?”

“Karkaroff,” Marcus muttered. “He’s dead. He just crumpled.”

“Karkaroff? Dead?” Crouch said, pausing. “Not Igor Karkaroff? What on earth are you on about?”

“It was Kinney!” Harriet said, moving past Daniel to support Ronnie. “Solomon Kinney! He murdered Igor Karkaroff right over there!”

Everyone in the clearing fell silent, except for Marcus whose continued muttering was easier to hear. Hermione was still kneeling beside him.

“Marcus saw the whole thing,” Hermione said. “Kinney was disguised as someone else, as an Auror. He said his name was Joshua Davidson.”

“Davidson?” said the boisterous voice of Amos Diggory. “We don’t have any aurors by that name, do we?”

“No…” said another voice Harriet thought familiar. She looked around and saw it came from a tall, brown skinned auror. She recognized him from the previous summer after Kinney’s bombing, but she couldn’t remember his name.

“I told you he didn’t look familiar,” Ronnie chimed in. “Didn’t I?

“Now everyone just calm down,” said the Auror again. “First, we must get to the bottom of what happened here.”

“Yes, right you are, Shacklebolt,” said Crouch.

 _Shacklebolt, that’s right_ , Harriet thought. She’d liked having him around. He gave off a strong air of calm and command.

“I’ll check it out, sir,” Mr Diggory said, boisterously moving towards the floating skull.

“You will not, Mr Diggory,” Shacklebolt said. “I am the ranking Auror here.”

“Might I offer some assistance?” said a completely new voice which Harriet did not recognize. The voice was deep and crisp, the accent strange. It sounded British, yet a dialect she could not place.

“And who are you?” asked Crouch, rounding on the newcomer.

In the wavering wand light, Harriet recognized the strange, pale man in the blue robes she had seen in the top box. Now he had four black-robed figures with him instead of just two.

The pale man smiled and bowed courteously. “I am Lord Darius. If you would like, my Horsemen would be perfectly willing to investigate the scene for you, if you are worried about injury coming to your own?”

He seemed pleasant enough, yet Harriet somehow couldn’t help but detect a slight hint of condescension. Apparently she was not the only one as a bristle of whispers and scoffs passed around the group of Ministry witches and wizards.

“Vampires!” exclaimed a high-pitched, exasperated voice from somewhere in the little crowd. “Why on earth should we allow vampires to investigate a potential crime scene? This is a Ministry matter!”

Harriet’s eyes went wide. Beside her, Hermione and Dora gave her matching incredulous looks. They had shared the top box with three vampires? She thought back on the last year, having to write an essay on them for Professor Lupin. Professor Lupin hadn’t seemed enthusiastic about it, but it was part of the school’s curriculum he’d said.

“That’s enough, Dolores,” Crouch said. “I will remind all of you that I am the ranking Ministry official here.” He turned to address Darius, “However, she is right. This is a Ministry matter, and we haven’t even ascertained that anyone has been killed.”

He directed his last statement at Shacklebolt and Diggory, “All right, you two, take a few others and investigate.”

Mr Diggory nodded and rolled up his sleeves before he and Shacklebolt headed off, wands at the ready, into the forest. Lord Darius had fallen silent, and his eyes were narrowed. As Harriet watched, he muttered under his breath and the two black figures on his right backed up slowly and disappeared into the darkness, while one of the remaining figures moved over to take their place.

“Merlin’s beard!” Mr Diggory exclaimed.

A hushed silence fell over the crowd. “Yes… the kids are right… it’s Karkaroff. Killing Curse by the looks of it. No marks on him,” said Shacklebolt.

“And blimey! That’s not all!” Diggory called.

“What?” Crouch called. “What’s not all?”

“It seems that we got someone with our stunning spells, after all,” Shacklebolt said.

“Who?” Crouch asked, his voice tight with disbelief.

A moment later, Shacklebolt and Diggory came walking back into the clearing. A tiny figure was cradled in Mr Diggory’s arms. Harriet recognized the tea-towel the figure was wearing at once. It was Winky, Crouch’s house-elf.

Crouch had gone rigid. Almost every eye in the clearing was on him as Diggory lay Winky down at his feet. Crouch simply stared at her while everyone else watched him.

“This… this cannot be… no!” Crouch said.

He sprang to life and pushed forcibly past Mr Diggory and Shacklebolt.

“There’s no point, Mr Crouch,” Mr Diggory called after him. “There’s nothing else there save Karkaroff.”

Mr Crouch didn’t appear to hear him, or was ignoring him as they listened to him thrashing about in the bushes. At that moment, one of Lord Darius’ bodyguards stepped forward angrily, speaking rapidly in a language Harriet couldn’t understand and pointing. Several of the Ministry wizards rounded on him raising their wands. Lord Darius put a hand on the guard’s shoulder and pulled him back, muttering in his ear.

“What are you plotting?” asked the voice of Dolores Umbridge. Harriet now saw the pink clad, unpleasant figure she despised step forward into the clearing. She was the one who was trying to mess with Sirius’ trial. It was Fudge’s Senior Undersecretary.

“We plot nothing, my dear lady,” Lord Darius said. “My Horsemen here is simply expressing his dismay that in his haste, Mr Crouch is most likely going to destroy or corrupt any remaining evidence as to what actually happened.”

“Oh a likely story,” Umbridge said. “We know all about your kind, _Lord_ Darius!”

“Miss Umbridge!” gasped a wizard in shock.

“Well, why are they so interested in getting to the scene?” Umbridge went on, her short little wand unwavering as it pointed at Lord Darius’ face. “No doubt they want to destroy any evidence that it was them who carried out the murder!”

There was a wave of angry derision after this. Harriet suddenly felt her own temper flare. She didn’t know any of the vampires, but having learned the truth about werewolves and how they weren’t as dark as everyone made out, she felt a sharp annoyance that everyone was taking the same suspicious attitude of the vampires.

“It wasn’t any of them!” Harriet said pushing past Daniel.

“Nor was it Winky!” Hermione said stepping up next to Harriet.

“I saw who did it!” Harriet said. “It was Solomon Kinney like I told you! He was disguised as someone else!”

“And Winky didn’t conjure the Dark Mark, either!” Dora added.

“Of course she didn’t,” Mr Weasley agreed. “No one’s saying she did, girls.”

“Well she’s the one found closest to the scene of the crime,” Mr Diggory said.

“But how is a house-elf supposed to conjure the Dark Mark, Amos? Or kill someone?” Daniel said. “It was only ever Voldemort’s supporters who knew how to conjure the Dark Mark. Furthermore, she’d need a wand.”

“Well, she had a wand,” Mr Diggory said. “Right in her hands, which is a violation of clause three of the Code of Wand Use for a start—”

Diggory was cut off by a popping noise and Ludo Bagman reappeared in the clearing. He nearly stepped on Winky as he spun around, taking in all the faces.

“The Dark Mark! Who conjured it!? Did you get them? Barty! What’s going on?”

Mr Crouch returned to the clearing. He was very pale, almost as pale as Lord Darius, and he seemed a little twitchy.

“Where the blazes have you been, Barty?” Bagman asked. “Why weren’t you at the match? Your elf was saving you a—Gulping Gargoyles!” Bagman actually jumped an inch in the air in surprise as he finally noticed Winky on the ground at his feet. “What happened to her?!”

“I was busy, Ludo,” Crouch said, curtly. “And my elf has been Stunned.”

“Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why?!”

Bagman looked back down at the elf, then up at the Dark Mark and comprehension dawned on his face. “No! Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn’t know how! And she’d need a wand!”

“And she had one!” Mr Diggory chimed in. “Found her holding one!”

“Even if she was holding the wand that’s only circumstantial,” Daniel said.

“It wasn’t her!” Harriet said, stamping a foot in frustration. “We _heard_ the voice that spoke conjuring the Mark!”

“Yeah!” Dora said. “And it _definitely_ wasn’t a house-elf!”

“And what makes you so sure of that?” Umbridge asked, coolly.

“Because our family _has_ house-elves, Miss Umbridge,” Dora’s father said, even more coolly and looming to full height. “ _Three_ of them, in fact. She has heard them speak her entire life. Are you implying that my daughter is a liar?”

“N-no, Mr Flamel,” Umbridge said, breathlessly, clearly recognizing who Mr Flamel was. “M-merely… that she might have been mistaken, with everything that had been happening.”

“I believe even a human would have to be very badly shaken indeed to mistake a house-elf for a wizard,” Lord Darius said, casually.

Umbridge shot him a nasty look.

“Well then, let’s find out,” Mr Diggory said. “I think we should hear what she has to say for herself. Even if she didn’t do it, she would have only been feet away from the person who did.”

“Yes, good thought, Mr Diggory,” Shacklebolt agreed.

Mr Diggory pointed his wand at Winky. “ _Rennervate!_ ”

Winky gasped as she regained consciousness. Her brown eyes snapped open and she blinked in bemusement, looking around. She slowly sat up, rubbing her little forehead and wincing. She then caught sight of Mr Diggory’s feet, and slowly looked up at his face. Then, her eyes moved past him to the Dark Mark floating in the sky. She gasped and tried to scramble back away from it before she stopped and simply broke down into terrified sobs.

“Elf!” Mr Diggory said, in a dignified, superior tone. “Do you know who I am? I am a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures.”

Winky merely responded by hugging her legs to her chest and rocking back and forth, panting heavily and rapidly. Harriet was sure she was about to hyperventilate.

“Oh lay off her, for pity’s sake, Amos,” Mr Weasley said. “She’s a witness, not a suspect.”

“But she had the wand—”

“Amos!” Mr Weasley snapped now. “Think about it! Precious few _wizards_ know how to conjure that Mark! Where would she have learned it? Or even how to use a wand to begin with?”

“Perhaps Amos is suggesting that I regularly teach my servants how to conjure dark magic such as the Dark Mark?” Crouch growled, seeming to regain his senses. “Or how to use wands illegally?”

“M-Mr Crouch!” Mr Diggory spluttered. “I never meant—”

“You have accused my elf, and in doing so you have accused me, Diggory.”

Mr Diggory looked quite abashed now. Harriet glanced at Lord Darius again. The pale old man was looking on this scene with a distinct air of amusement.

“None of this gets us any closer to finding out what happened,” Shacklebolt said. “A murder has been committed here and the body is still lying only yards away from us. I think we can afford a little calmness and decency to find out what happened, can we not?”

“Yes, quite right, Kingsley, thank you,” Mr Diggory said, sounding glad for the distraction. “Elf, you were found directly beneath the Dark Mark with this wand in your hand moments after the Mark was cast.”

Mr Diggory held up the wand. In the green light of the skull and the flickering wands, Harriet gasped as she recognized the wand at once.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

“What?” Mr Diggory asked, turning to Harriet in surprise.

“That’s my wand! I thought I dropped it a ways back! I noticed it was missing right after we got into the woods. I think I left it back in the tent when we ran off.”

“Oh, is that right?” Mr Diggory asked. “Left it behind in the tent? Or dropped it right after conjuring the Dark Mark—”

“That’s enough!” Daniel snapped and he actually stepped up, nose to nose with Amos, his hands clenched in fists. “You’re now accusing not only a fourteen year old, but _Harriet Potter_ of conjuring the Dark Mark?”

Mr Diggory spluttered a little. Even in the green light, Harriet could tell his face had gone very red.

“S-sorry, Mr Dusk, yes, just got a little carried away. Anyway, elf—”

“She _has_ a name,” Lord Darius said, coolly. “And it is not, _Elf_.”

“Mr Shacklebolt,” Crouch said. “Would you kindly escort Lord Darius from the scene? He has no jurisdiction here, and his presence is likely to cause trouble should it be discovered he and his kind are here.”

Lord Darius’ eyes went very narrow indeed at this.

“Is that wise, Mr Crouch?” Umbridge asked. “We should question them as suspects should we not—”

“No need,” Lord Darius said, holding up a hand to Shacklebolt. “We shall leave of our own accord. We would not wish to upset the Ministry by our mere presence, _human_. Álætnes. Burgrún. We’re going.”

Lord Darius turned and the two remaining black cloaked figures followed.

“Stop them!” Umbridge squeaked. “They are suspects!”

“Be quiet, Dolores!” another witch hissed urgently.

Lord Darius paid her no mind however, and a moment later he was also swallowed up by the darkness.

“Uh… well… um… elf—er, I mean to say—Winky…” Mr Diggory said, trying to bring the conversation back to the incident. “You were found with the wand in your hand. Where did you find it?”

Winky turned and pointed a shaky hand at the place underneath the Dark Mark. “I is finding it there, sir… there, in the woods…”

“Well, we’ll see. Did you know there’s a way of telling just which spells a wand last cast?” Mr Diggory asked Winky. He lifted Harriet’s wand and his own, putting them tip to tip. “ _Prior Incantato_.”

Harriet gasped. Thick grey smoke burst from the tip of her wand, and floated into the middle of the clearing. To Harriet’s horror, the smoke whirled around and formed into a grey replica of the Dark Mark.

Everyone stared at it as it floated in the middle of the clearing. Then, something else burst from Harriet’s wand. A small, grey horse, with a long horn on its head. Even if it was small and grey instead of massive and shining bright white, somehow the sight of Harriet’s patronus was comforting to her.

“What’s that?” asked Umbridge.

“That’s my patronus,” Harriet said. “It was the last spell I cast with my wand… Professor Lupin taught me how to conjure it.”

Remus shifted a little. He seemed uncomfortable having attention drawn to himself, but he seemed to be hiding a little smile as well.

“ _Deletrius_!” Diggory said, and the smoke Mark and unicorn vanished.

“Well, so we’ve proven that it wasn’t Harriet’s wand that killed Karkaroff,” Daniel said.

Harriet felt another wave of relief at this.

“It also means that whoever conjured the Mark was not the same person to kill Karkaroff… curious…”

“So!” Mr Diggory exclaimed, rounding on Winky again. “So here we find you, holding the wand that _did_ in fact conjure the Dark Mark! Can you account for that?”

“I is not doing it!” Winky wailed, tugging on her ears. “I is not! I is not knowing how! Winky is a good elf! Winky is not using wands! Winky is not knowing how!”

“You were caught red-handed, elf!” Mr Diggory went on. “Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!”

“This is the second time tonight that you have accused me, Diggory,” Crouch said, his voice dangerously calm now.

“S-s-sorry, Mr Crouch,” Mr Diggory stammered, brought back to his senses. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“As well you should be, Diggory,” Crouch said, slowly advancing on Mr Diggory. “You have come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are the _least_ likely to have conjured the Mark! Harriet Potter, and myself. _Twice_. I suggest you check yourself closely, Diggory. Your head of department would not like to hear about this, would he?”

Mr Diggory had gone very pale, indeed. Harriet was having a hard time deciding who was being the bigger jerk between the two. Glancing down at Winky, Harriet decided that in this case it was probably Mr Diggory.

“Well, there we have it,” Mr Weasley said, trying to sound reasonable. “Whoever conjured the Dark Mark must have Disapparated right after they conjured it and left Harriet’s wand behind.”

“But, alright, even if she didn’t conjure it, she would have been only feet away from the real culprit. Winky, did you see anyone?”

Winky was now trembling harder than ever. Her eyes were darting around everyone in the clearing, finally settling on Mr Crouch.

“I is seeing no one, sir, no one,” Winky said.

“Can you all show even a modicum of dignity!” said one of the witches. “A man has been murdered and one of these children is traumatized and all you can do is squabble like children!”

A silence fell over the clearing once more.

“Yes, you’re right, Miss Vance… quite right,” Crouch said, sounding a little haughty but brought to his senses nonetheless. “Dolores, if you would be so kind as to summon Rufus and Amelia. They are still with the Minister I believe, who I’m sure would like to be brought up to speed. Arthur, as these children are with you, you may return with them to your tent if it is still intact. However, I’m sure you can expect another summons from Amelia for these children to give a proper accounting of what happened. Diggory. Give Miss Potter her wand back. It’s told us all we need to know.”

“Oh, right,” Mr Diggory said and handed Harriet’s wand back to her.

“Now then,” Crouch went on. “Diggory, in the usual circumstances, I’m sure you would want to take Winky in for questioning. However, I’m going to ask that you allow me to deal with her instead.”

Mr Diggory didn’t look very pleased about this at all, yet Harriet could tell that Mr Crouch was far too important a Ministry member for Mr Diggory to refuse.

“I assure you… she will be punished…”

Mr Weasley, Daniel, and Remus all gave each other very uneasy looks. They slowly started guiding the teens away from the clearing.

“Punished!” Hermione exclaimed. “For what?”

Mr Weasley grimaced and tried harder to steer her away from the clearing but Hermione twisted free, watching on.

“M-m-master… p-please… please…” Winky stammered. Her voice was shaking, and despite her little size, Harriet was reminded of Hagrid the night of Buckbeak’s execution. She sounded completely lost and hopeless.

Mr Crouch’s gaze bore her no pity. “Tonight, Winky has behaved in a manner I could not have believed possible. I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there no matter what happened until I returned. And here I find that she disobeyed me. Threatened her master’s reputation. This means clothes.”

“No!” Winky shrieked. She flung herself on the ground at Crouch’s feet, clutching the hem of his robe and pleading. “No, master! Not clothes! Not clothes!”

Harriet stared on, dumbstruck by the scene. She remembered only too well how badly Dobby had hoped to be given clothes and be set free. Yet as she watched Winky’s protests, it looked more like she had just been given a death sentence.

“She was frightened!” Hermione shouted. “She’s afraid of heights and they were levitating people! It must have been her worst nightmare! Of course she’d get out of the way!”

Crouch stepped back from Winky, looking down at her with near hatred before bending a cold eye on Hermione. “I have no use for a house elf who forgets what is due to her master and his reputation.”

The whole clearing fell silent except for Winky’s continued sobs. Harriet felt Daniel’s hand clench tighter on her shoulder as he turned her away. Remus was kneeling with Marcus, talking quietly. Finally, he managed to get Marcus to his feet and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. Marcus’ knees were still shaking.

Hermione looked as though she wanted to say something more but Mrs Flamel put a gentle hand on Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione looked up at her and sighed before the whole group turned and headed off towards the field once more.

“Is Marcus okay?” Hermione asked, glancing back over her shoulder as Professor Lupin continued to walk their friend along.

“He’s badly shaken, but we’ll set him right,” Mr Weasley said. “There’s nothing more to worry about. You’re all safe now.”

“What about Winky?” Hermione pressed. “What’s going to happen to her?”

Mr Weasley sighed. “I don’t know, Hermione.”

Somehow, the trip back out of the forest seemed to go much quicker than it had going in. In almost no time, they were on the edge of the forest where a crowd had gathered, muttering anxiously and shifting around. At the sight of Mr Weasley, the whole crowd began bustling over and pestering him with questions.

“What’s going on in there?”

“Who conjured it?”

“It wasn’t _him_ , was it Arthur?”

“Of course it—”

“Now now, move along, nothing to see here,” said a bored but authoritative voice. “The Ministry will give an official statement when everything has been squared away. Move along, move along.”

It was Dawlish, the auror who had followed Harriet around at the end of last year after Sirius had kidnapped Erica. Harriet glared at him but to her surprise, Dawlish actually gave her a tiny wink and ushered them away from the crowd. Once they were out of earshot, Daniel chuckled.

“Okay, I’d love to hear what you did with the real Dawlish.”

Dawlish looked aghast. “My good man! If you mean to insinuate I would do harm to a member of law enforcement I am shocked. He’s off with the minister about to be very confused as to why he’s probably going to be reported in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow having rudely told off a bunch of scared citizens.”

Harriet blinked. “Professor Howe?”

“Shhh,” Dawlish hissed. “Not so loud.”

The realization hit Harriet like a wave of warm relief. Professor Howe-Dawlish leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Unfortunately I have another twenty or so minutes before the potion wears off, but I need you to tell me everything that happened tonight. I mean everything. Arthur, my good man, Daniel,” Professor Howe said. “Would you mind if I asked Miss Potter a few questions?

“Of course not,” Mr Weasley said.

Daniel nodded though it was a very reluctant one.

Professor Howe glanced at Marcus who was still shivering. His expression softened at once. “As for Mr Van Der Lakk, I highly recommend a warm blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and a soft bed before taking him in to St Mungo’s in the morning. Taking him there now would probably be even more traumatic. A bit of normality is a much better cure.”

Professor Howe smiled and put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder and guided her a little ways away. He looked around and drew his long, strangely shaped wand and gave it a wave. At once, the same overwhelming silence fell over them as had done back in Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“Now, Harriet, first of all… I’m truly sorry I was not able to be there with you tonight. The situation with the Roberts’ family required a delicate touch and afterwards I had my own students to find.”

“Yeah, we met them in the woods,” Harriet said.

“I know,” Professor Howe said. “They told me. After you left them, what happened?”

“Well… first… we ran into Crouch’s house elf. She was running funny… I think because he told her not to leave their tent for any reason.”

Professor Howe’s eyes narrowed in thought. It was a bit odd for Harriet to see Dawlish’s face looking clever and thoughtful.

“Crouch ordered his house elf to remain at their tent in spite of a mob heading towards it… I see… and then what?”

“Well, then we ran into…” Harriet trailed off. Even if she hadn’t liked him much, she hadn’t really wished Karkaroff dead.

“Yes?” Professor Howe pressed.

“We ran into Professor Karkaroff… from Durmstrang…”

“I see…” Professor Howe said, rubbing his chin in thought. He glanced up at the Dark Mark still floating in the air, just before a jet of sparks hit it and it dissipated.

“I’m guessing he’s the reason for the Dark Mark?”

“I… I think so,” Harriet said.

“You think so?”

“Yeah… well… Professor, it was Kinney, Kinney killed him.”

Professor Howe’s eyes narrowed even further and he looked up at the place where the Dark Mark had been. “I see… but he didn’t conjure the Mark.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Harriet paused. “How did you know?”

Professor Howe shrugged. “There’s never been any indication that Kinney is working with the old Death Eaters. It’s not his style anyway.”

“He’s too independent?” Harriet asked.

Professor Howe smiled. “Yes. But more than that, Kinney doesn’t hold their ideals. More to the point, he doesn’t hold any ideals but his own. Anyway, I’m guessing your friend Marcus witnessed the murder.”

“Yes…” Harriet said.

Professor Howe sighed. “Thought as much. He’s got a rough road ahead of him, I’m afraid. So, how did you know it was Kinney? I’m assuming he was disguised.”

“Well, yes, he was disguised as an Auror. Called himself Joshua Davidson. Anyway… he told Karkaroff he was going to take him to see the Minister. Then just as they got to the edge of the woods, he turned and looked at me. And his face just… changed. Like it just changed shape right in front of me to Kinney’s and I called out, and Marcus ran after him, there was this green flash and I think I heard Kinney disapparate and Marcus was freaking out and we just… I don’t know… it all happened so fast…”

“Hmmm…” Professor Howe said, pacing a little thinking. “That’s a new variable we hadn’t accounted for, which explains a great deal.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“By the sound of it, we have ourselves a metamorphmagus.”

“A what?”

“A Metamorphmagus. They are extremely rare, witches and wizards who can change their appearance at will.”

“Like a Shapeshifter?” Harriet asked, confused.

“No,” Sherrod said. “Metamorphagus can’t change species, just appearance. Like Kinney, changing physical aspects at will. That explains a great deal… Dawlish is a buffoon to be sure, but I knew Kinney’s disappearance before was too easy…”

Professor Howe pulled out a pipe and lit it, puffing on it deep in thought.

“So… if it wasn’t Kinney… who do you think conjured the Dark Mark then?”

“I cannot say, yet,” Professor Howe said. “Not enough data. I assume whoever conjured it also disapparated immediately after?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Harriet said. “Now you mention it, I heard the crack of Kinney disapparating after he killed Karkaroff, but I don’t remember hearing it after the Dark Mark was cast…”

“I see…” Professor Howe puffed on the pipe a few more times.

“But…” Harriet went on when Professor Howe didn’t say anything more. “But when the Ministry showed up… they fired spells into the place where the mark had been cast… but the only person they found was Mr Crouch’s house-elf.”

Professor Howe’s eyebrows raised. “Winky? Now that is interesting…”

“She said she was trying to get away because she was scared… like when we saw her earlier and she could barely run but kept talking about people in the air and getting out of the way. We were sitting by her in the top-box, she told us how she’s afraid of heights.”

“Hmmmm… that does hold, yes… but… how that puts her at the scene…?”

Professor Howe puffed on the pipe a few more times. “And that’s all that you can recall? You saw Winky in the woods, fleeing, then you ran into Karkaroff… what was Karkaroff up to? It’s not exactly his forte to look out for anyone but himself?”

“Well, he said he was going to lead us to safety but… he kept looking back at the clearing and then at me… we were just about ready to ditch him when we ran into Ludo Bagman.”

“Ahhh yes,” Professor Howe said nodding. “Figured he was up to something.”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Probably paying off some goblins. Ludo has a bit of a gambling problem and wouldn’t want people knowing that. What happened after you ran into Ludo?”

“Well, he left, and right after that Kinney showed up. He said he was looking for Mr Bagman.”

“Hmmmmm… looks like Ludo had a lucky escape then…”

Professor Howe said with dark amusement. “He always was a slippery one, if only by accident.”

“Sir?”

“Nothing, Harriet,” Professor Howe said. “Nothing relevant to this discussion anyway. So Kinney was after Bagman, eh? Yes, that would have been a nasty blow… a beloved former Quidditch player murdered at the World Cup.” Professor Howe snorted. “Oh I bet Kinney’s furious.”

“Furious?” Harriet asked. “Why?”

“Because no one’s going to believe it was him,” Professor Howe replied and gave a little wave at the place where the Dark Mark had been. “Everyone’s going to want to pin this on the Death Eaters. Kinney may have thought he was getting even more bang for his buck in killing Karkaroff instead—you see, Karkaroff was both foreign and very important wizard—killing him here will cause massive ripples in the relations between Ministry governments. Yes… under any other circumstances it was a brilliant move. However… Harriet. You recall seeing him after the bombing, last summer?”

“Yes sir,” Harriet said, wondering how she could ever forget.

“Kinney wants credit for his work. That’s why he revealed himself to you. I’m sure that’s why he didn’t kill you instead.”

Harriet felt a pang in her stomach at these words. Another instance she had come within an inch of death.

“You were more valuable to him as a witness than a victim,” Professor Howe pressed on. “I know you don’t like it, but you have to admit that there are times when being as famous as you are comes in handy. Between the rioting Death Eaters and the Dark Mark appearing in the sky and Karkaroff’s own past… everyone is going to want to pin this on the Death Eaters, not Kinney.”

Harriet was starting to feel a bit dizzy from everything that had been happening. It also occurred to her that she had barely slept.

Professor Howe gave her a kindly look. “Thank you, Harriet, this was most helpful. Now if I’m not mistaken, I’m about to turn back into myself. Hurry along to the Weasleys. As for me, I have an engagement with a vampire I must get to.”

“Yes sir,” Harriet said. “Wait, you know about—”

Harriet didn’t get to say another word. Professor Howe simply smiled, and spun on the spot, swinging his wand wide and vanishing with a loud crack. Harriet sighed and turned back towards the group. By the looks of it, only Daniel had remained. Everyone else must have gone back to the tents.

Daniel didn’t say anything as she reached him. He simply gave her a rather forced smile. Harriet mulled over everything Sherrod had said. She was starting to wonder why she wasn’t more scared. She’d apparently come close to dying again. And it hadn’t even been her talents that saved her, like her patronus, or her wits and friends, as with the trials her first year, or her bravery in defeating the basilisk and Riddle during her second year. It wasn’t even her mother’s protection.

No, it was mere chance. Kinney could haveeasily picked her. And if he had picked her, then he could have just as easily killed all her friends too when they tried to stop him. Harriet shivered. She hadn’t been scared before, but now as she thought about it, she was scared.

She trembled a bit and Daniel put his hand on her shoulder again. She looked up at him and managed to smile. Daniel had done so much to be there for her since they had met last year. His hand on her shoulder was so calming, how she’d always imagined a real parent’s would feel. However, as they reached the tent, Harriet couldn’t help but glance at her other side, and fight off a tiny, childish wish that there was someone else standing there with their hand on her shoulder too.


	10. The Nocturnal Lament

“There is no true preparation for loss. No matter how sudden or long coming it is, losing a loved one will always hurt. But it can be worked through by sharing the pain and the love amongst those we still have who we love, and the memories we all share.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

There was hushed conversation as Harriet and Daniel stepped back inside the tent. Harriet was relieved to see everyone else was safe too. Fred, George, and Ginny were there, as were Charlie, Bill, and Percy. She was even more relieved to see Kieran and Scott there with Kieran’s parents.

Kieran and Scott were sitting with Marcus on his bunk. He was wrapped in a blanket as per Professor Howe’s instructions and holding a cup of hot chocolate. Both boys had an arm around his shoulders, and were talking to him in hushed voices. To Harriet’s relief, he looked much calmer now than he had before. His hands were no longer shaking.

Hermione was giving Percy a very dark look which Harriet found odd, as usually Hermione got on better with Percy than anyone else did.

“But I don’t get it,” Ronnie said. “What was the point of causing all that just to levitate some Muggles?”

Apparently they had started the discussion of the events without her.

Daniel gave a hollow laugh as he walked over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. “That was the point, Ronnie. That’s a Death Eater’s idea of fun.”

“Yes,” Mr Weasley agreed. “Half the Muggle-killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and decided to remind us all that lots of them are still out there.”

“But what do they have to do with Kinney?” Bill asked. “That I don’t get…”

“Professor Howe said nothing,” Harriet chimed in.

“Heh, lousy timing then,” Bill said, wincing. Harriet now noticed that he was letting Mrs Flamel apply a bandage to his arm where a large cut was still bleeding.

“Not entirely,” Charlie said. “If he’d chosen to strike at the riot itself we could have had a real problem on our hands. Killing Karkaroff though… hate to say it this way, but that was almost a lucky break for you Harriet, by the sound of it.”

Harriet blinked. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Charlie shrugged. “Well, by talking to this lot, sounds like he had it in his head to turn you over to the Death Eaters should they have found you.”

Harriet grimaced a little. She had wondered that as well.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Dora said.

“But why would he do that?” Ronnie asked. “I mean… yeah they were You-Know-Who’s supporters but still.”

Daniel snorted and Mr Weasley looked grave.

“Because, once upon a time, Karkaroff would have been perfectly happy being out there with them,” Daniel said. “I was with Moody when we brought Karkaroff in.”

“Brought him in?” Harriet asked. “You mean?”

“Yeah, Karkaroff was a Death Eater too. Probably would like to be again, but he helped put too many of his old “friends” in Azkaban for them to accept him back. Turning you over would have given him a considerable amount of credit with them. Just like Wormtail.”

An awkward silence fell over the group once more. Ronnie broke it. “Okay… but one last thing I don’t get… if they were Death Eaters causing the riot, and the Dark Mark is You-Know-Who’s symbol… why did they run away when they saw it?”

“Use your brains, Ronnie,” said Bill. “If-ouch!” Bill cut off and glared at Charlie who had nudged Bill’s hurt arm angrily.

“Lay off her for once, would you?” Charlie muttered giving Bill a dirty look. Harriet felt her admiration for Charlie grow even more.

Bill went a bit red and gave Ronnie an apologetic look. “Sorry, Ronnie, okay, well if this lot really were Death Eaters, they—like Karkaroff—worked really hard to stay out of Azkaban after Harriet finished him off. They told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to do his bidding. That puts them right at the front of You-Know-Who’s hit list should he ever return. I bet you they were ruddy terrified the moment they saw the Mark in the sky.”

“So, whoever conjured it,” Harriet said. “Were they doing it to support the Death Eaters, or scare them off?”

“Yeah, I mean… if they’d be scared of it, why conjure it?” Dora asked.

“And you remember the laugh?” Hermione chimed in. “The way the person who conjured it laughed before doing so. I’m sure they found Karkaroff’s body and that’s why they were laughing.”

“Hmmmm,” Daniel said, rubbing his chin. “That’s a very good point, girls.”

“Yes,” Remus said. “A very good point, indeed. It could so easily go either way…”

“Well, we won’t get to the bottom of it tonight,” Mr O’Brien said. “We’ll take Marcus with us, shall we Arthur? We’ll take him in to St Mungo’s for some proper treatment first thing after he wakes so you can get your lot back home.”

“Yes, good thought, Sean,” Mr Weasley agreed.

“Come on mate,” Scott said as he and Kieran helped Marcus back to his feet. “Just a bit more walking and you can get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “Good plan…”

“F-feel better soon,” Hermione said, trying to sound comforting though by the looks of it she felt unsure.

“Thanks,” Marcus said and actually gave her a hint of a smile before departing the tent with Kieran, Scott, and the O’Briens.

“Right, for the rest of us, we’ll get some sleep. Your mother will be worried sick,” Mr Weasley said to his children. “A few more hours sleep, then we’ll catch an early Portkey back home safe and sound and you lot can all get a proper rest. Alright?”

There was general agreement and Harriet, Hermione, Ronnie and Dora returned to their tent. Harriet was exhausted, but she still couldn’t fight off the deep sense of worry. Only a week ago, she had woken with her scar hurting, something that had only ever happened to her when Lord Voldemort was close. And now, Lord Voldemort’s symbol had appeared in the sky for the first time in thirteen years. It felt like too strong a connection to be a coincidence.

Harriet tossed and turned a little more when suddenly she heard it. Outside the tent, she heard a cough and knew it was Daniel sitting watch. She smiled a little and lay her head back down.

That’s when she heard it. The soft but unmistakable sound of a violin was playing from somewhere nearby. Somehow, Harriet just knew it was the same violin she always heard when she was in King’s Cross. It put her in mind of the kindly, raggedy violinist she had met on her first train-ride to Hogwarts. It was a warm, comforting feeling.

“Ronnie, do you hear that?” Harriet asked.

“Muh?” Ronnie muttered, clearly almost asleep.

“The violin,” Harriet said, keeping her voice down.

“Wha vierlin?” Ronnie grunted into her pillow. “Needa sleep…”

Harriet rolled her eyes and lay back down. The violin continued to play, its tune soft and calming. Harriet felt as though she was floating on the notes, dreamily drifting off to sleep.

## * * * *

They woke at the crack of dawn. Harriet felt as though all of her limbs had put on twenty pounds, she was so tired. Daniel and Remus joined them as they made their way out of the clearing. It was an ominous feeling as they went. The mist was back, and everywhere the toppled and charred remains of tents loomed up at them.

“Merry Christmas.”

Harriet blinked looking up at Mr Roberts as he waved them off from the front step of his cottage. His eyes looked out of focus.

“He’ll be alright,” Mr Weasley said as they got out of ear-shot. “When people are Obliviated and their memory modified, they get a little… disorientated for a while. And that was a _very_ big thing they had to make him forget.”

There was the sound of many agitated voices as they neared the place with the Portkeys. A large crowd had formed, everyone who had arrived via Portkey looking to get away from the site as quickly as possible. Mr Weasley managed to work his way through the crowd up to Basil and began talking to him in a hushed voice. Harriet blushed a little as Mr Weasley gave a discreet nod in her direction and Basil nodded and waved them forward.

Another unpleasant Portkey trip later they were back on Stoatshead Hill. No one spoke as they made their way through the village. In spite of it all, Harriet could only think of two things: breakfast and proper sleep.

As they reached the Burrow, a cry greeted them. “Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!”

Mrs Weasley sprang up from where she had been sitting on the front step waiting for them. She was still in her bedroom slippers as she hurried towards them a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ tucked under her arm.

“Arthur, I was so worried— _so worried—_ ” Mrs Weasley flung her arms around Mr Weasley’s neck, dropping the _Prophet_ to the ground. Harriet looked down and saw the headline.

_SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_

 

Underneath it was a large, black and white picture of the Dark Mark floating ominously over the trees.

“You’re all alright…” Mr Weasley said staring around. “You’re alive… oh _boys_!”

Mrs Weasley released Mr Weasley immediately flinging her arms around Fred and George. The embrace was so tight and sudden that their heads knocked together.

“Ouch! Mum! You’re strangling us!” The twins chorused.

“I shouted at you before you left!” Mrs Weasley sobbed. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you and the last thing time we’d ever spoke **n** I yelled at you about O.W.L.s and trick sweets. Oh Fred! George!”

“Now, now, Molly,” Mr Weasley said soothingly gently removing Mrs Weasley from the twins and guiding her back to the house. Daniel paused and picked up the newspaper from the ground and they followed Mr and Mrs Weasley inside.

Everyone crammed into the Weasley’s tiny kitchen and Hermione made everyone some tea. Mr Weasley poured a shot of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky in Mrs Weasley’s as well. Once they were settled in, Mr Weasley picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet that Daniel had set on the table and read, Percy and Bill leaning over his shoulder to read as well. Charlie and Hermione prepared breakfast together.

“Of course,” Mr Weasley sighed, rubbing his bald patch. “ _Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace…_ Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter.”

“That woman has it in for the Ministry!” Percy said indignantly. “Last week she was saying how we’re wasting time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be worried about stamping out vampires!”

“What?” Hermione asked, nearly dropping the eggs she was holding.

“Yes…” Remus said bitterly. “If you think Umbridge is the only one with a less than enlightened view towards non-human beings, you’re sorely mistaken, Hermione.”

“But it’s specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the _Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans_ —”

“Do us a favour, Perce, and shut up,” Bill said, yawning.

Daniel chuckled darkly. “Also I’d never let a vampire hear you reciting that, either.”

“Why not?” Ronnie asked.

Remus snorted. “They don’t exactly take the term ‘part human’ as a compliment.”

Mr Weasley chortled. “Ah, and there’s Howe. Poor Dawlish, he is really going to catch hell for that. And I’m mentioned it seems.”

“What?” Mrs Weasley spluttered. “If I’d seen that I’d have known you were alive!”

“Not by name,” Mr Weasley said.

“What’s it say?” Daniel asked.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat and read. “ _If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark, but before he could give a statement, an Auror appeared to shoo the crowd away before hurrying the official off before he could explain anything. This, coupled with the rumours of bodies being removed from the woods and a troop of vampires being spotted in the area is leaving a great many members of the wizarding public wondering just what the Ministry is trying to hide._ Oh really…” Mr Weasley said and finally put the paper down. “Well she’s really put the fat in the fire now.”

“Yeah, once it gets out that someone really was killed,” Bill said.

“What?!” Mrs Weasley gasped.

Daniel grimaced and gave the teens a tired look. “Why don’t you lot get some sleep,” he said as Mr Weasley began to explain what had happened to Mrs Weasley. “You’ve all earned it.”

“But breakfast is almost ready,” Ronnie moaned.

Remus gave a little snort of laughter into his mug of tea. The sizzling eggs and sausages did sound and smell delicious and Harriet’s stomach rumbled.

“Here you go,” Charlie said, setting two plates down in front of Ronnie and Harriet before turning back to get more for Ginny, Fred, and George. “Take them on up to your rooms.”

“Cheers,” Ronnie said, eyeing her plate with extreme hunger.

Harriet, Ronnie, Ginny and Hermione collected their plates and headed up the stairs. After the lack of sleep and the long walk from Stoatshead Hill, Harriet now felt as though her legs weighed forty points each. They sat in a circle in the middle of Ronnie’s floor and ate.

“Y’know?” Ronnie muttered. “Glad Daniel suggested this… tired of going over what happened over and over again…”

“Me too…” Ginny agreed.

Harriet could only express her agreement with a nod. Her eyes were having a hard time focusing. Not only that, she was still busy mulling over what had happened. And not just what happened last night. She couldn’t help but keep thinking about the dream. She glanced at the three around her.

“Okay… I have something to tell you all,” she managed to say.

The three looked up from their plates. “What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Well… remember that night I had that nightmare at Scott’s?” Harriet asked Hermione.

“Yes?”

“Well… it…” Harriet fumbled for words. “It wasn’t just a nightmare… my scar was hurting…”

Ronnie and Hermione’s eyes went wide.

“Your scar!” Hermione said. “But Harriet, the last time your scar hurt, it was because—”

“I know, I know,” Harriet said. “But, he couldn’t have been near me at the time. He definitely wasn’t in Privet Drive… but I was dreaming about him and Wormtail at the time… and they were plotting to kill… someone.”

“W-well, it was only a dream,” Ronnie said.

“You remember everything that’s happened since, right?” Ginny asked quickly. “So he hasn’t, you know…?”

“No,” Harriet said. “I don’t think he possessed me… it was just a dream. But then again… was it? It’s weird… first my scar hurts… then a week later the Death Eaters are on the march and Voldemort’s mark is in the sky.”

“Don’t say his name!” Ronnie hissed as the other three shuddered.

“And then there’s what Professor Trelawney said at the end of last year…”

Hermione snorted. “Oh Harriet, you’re not going to believe anything that fraud says?”

“You didn’t hear her, Hermione,” Harriet said. “This was different. Even Professor Dumbledore said it was a real one that time. She went into this trance, and said the Dark Lord would rise again with the help of his servant… and that night Wormtail escaped.”

An awkward silence fell over the room.

“Anyway,” Harriet said, “I wrote to Daniel and Remus about it. They said there wasn’t anything to worry about. Not yet anyway.”

“Well, it’s best not to worry then I guess,” Ronnie said.

“Yes, especially if Daniel said not to worry,” Hermione said. “I’m fairly sure there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”

Harriet smiled a little. “I know…” she blushed more.

“What is it?” Ginny asked.

Harriet shrugged. “Just… sorry, it’s silly. Just last night when he was bringing me back to the tent, I looked up and Daniel and just felt this well… like he was my… you know?”

“Dad…?” Ginny asked kindly.

“Well… yeah…” Harriet said.

Everyone gave her sympathetic smiles.

“That’s alright, Harriet,” Hermione said. “I get the feeling he sort of looks at you the same way, well, reversed… but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” Harriet agreed. “Though… I felt a bit… I don’t know… like it didn’t seem complete…”

“Well, we’ll have to get on him about dragging his feet with Professor Sinistra then so we can get you a mum too,” Ronnie said laughing.

Harriet rolled her eyes and grabbed her pillow off her cot, throwing it at Ronnie, but not very hard. As she did, her head swam a bit. She’d gotten a lot off her mind, and now her stomach was full. Those two issues taken care of, sleep was settling in on Harriet fast.

“Well, let’s all get some sleep,” Hermione said. “We could all use it.”

There was little argument as they stacked their empty plates and changed into bedclothes. With nothing to occupy her mind anymore, and her tummy warm and full, Harriet fell asleep before she’d even taken off her glasses.

## * * * *

It was Friday, and they’d just returned from giving their statements to the Ministry. Fortunately, this time they had only been required to speak to Madam Bones directly in her office, rather than down in the dark old courtrooms with the horrible chair with chains. It had also been good to see Marcus again. He seemed much better now, though no one dared bring up the night of Karkaroff’s murder.

Meanwhile, Mr Weasley and Percy had been gone almost all week. They both left before sunrise each morning and returned well after sundown each night.

They returned to the Burrow, Mrs Weasley smiling at them kindly as she put her large sunhat on the hat-rack.

“Nicely done, girls. Hurry on upstairs to change and I’ll make us all some lunch.”

“Ugh, if I never see the inside of the Ministry again, it will be too soon,” Ronnie muttered as she hurried past them, up the stairs to change out of her dress clothes as fast as she could.

Dora had returned with them, and gave Ronnie’s back a little smile and shook her head.

“She has to dress up nicer than that almost every day at Hogwarts…” she said, but not very loudly.

“Well, it was much nicer giving our reports to Madam Bones alone in her office,” Hermione said as they followed Ronnie up the stairs.

“Agreed,” Harriet said. “Though wasn’t that fun having to go through it all, again.”

“No…” Hermione said.

They changed out of their dress clothes and into more comfortable clothing.

“Well, at least there shouldn’t be anything else until we get back to Hogwarts,” Hermione said reasonably.

“I know, less than a week,” Ronnie said. “So ready to get back.”

“Me too,” Dora agreed. “Miss that drafty old place.”

“Yes, getting to see our friends every day, lessons, the library,” Hermione said.

“Hagrid, Quidditch, Hogsmeade,” Harriet added.

“You know, I think I’m going to try out again this year,” Dora said. “Now that Flint’s finally gone.”

“Finally gone?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Dora said. “He should have graduated at the end of our second year but he failed his exams and had to repeat.”

“What position you going for?” Ronnie asked.

Dora shrugged. “Dunno. I like Seeking and Chasing. So I might try out for both and see.”

“Heh, that’d mean we’d have to fly against each other,” Harriet said.

Dora shrugged again. “Well, that would be the case if I was in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff too, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” Harriet nodded.

Hermione smiled. “Well, I think—what on earth?”

They paused as there was a cry of shock from downstairs.

“That was mum,” Ronnie said and quickly hurried from the room and down the stairs, her feet pounding.

Harriet, Dora and Hermione all exchanged one look and hurried off after her. They met Fred and George on the stairs coming out of Charlie’s old room where Harriet was sure they had been working on more items for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in secret.

“What’s going on?” George asked. “Was that mum?”

“Dunno,” Harriet said as they hurried past the twins. “We’re going to find out.”

Fred and George exchanged a look and followed. The group hurried into the kitchen and paused. Mrs Weasley was sitting at the table, Bill, Charlie, Ronnie, and Ginny all gathered around her. Harriet looked down at the little bundle in Mrs Weasley’s arms and felt her heart sink. Lying in Mrs Weasley’s arms like an infant was the raggedy, fluffy, and lifeless form of Errol.

“No,” Fred said and he actually staggered a little.

“He was such a good owl,” Mrs Weasley said, her chin wobbling and tears pouring from her eyes.

Ginny hugged her mother tight around the shoulders, shaking with little sobs herself. Ronnie sniffed, trying not to cry. Dora slowly walked over to Ronnie and put a hand on her shoulder. Ronnie spun around and pulled Dora into a tight embrace. Dora grunted, but awkwardly hugged the much taller girl back as Ronnie finally caved.

“Poor Arthur… he’s going to be devastated…” Mrs Weasley said, her voice still shaky.

Mrs Weasley looked up at them all with a forced smile. “He was Arthur’s first owl… his parents gave Errol to him when he started attending Hogwarts…”

Harriet felt her own eyes get watery and she looked around the kitchen. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon were nowhere to be seen.

“You never told me that,” Bill said.

Mrs Weasley nodded. “I remember it like it was yesterday… the first time Errol brought him a letter from home… the way he smiled with pride… he was such a beautiful owl back then… the biggest in the school…”

“He lived a long, full life, mum,” Charlie said soothingly. “Longer than most of his kind live…”

“And he passed at home with people who loved him,” Bill added. “Not even many humans get that.”

“I know… you know he carried all of your birth announcements for you… he delivered our wedding announcements…” Mrs Weasley paused giving a big sniff. “There hasn’t been a single moment of our lives together that Errol wasn’t a part of…”

“I’ll… I’ll dig a place for him in the garden, Mum,” Charlie said.

“I’ll fetch him a proper box,” Bill added. “We can lay him to rest when Dad and Perce get home.”

Mrs Weasley didn’t seem to have heard. She just kept looking down at Errol with a pained look of loss. “He brought me the first love letter anyone had ever sent me… and your father had ever sent anyone…”

It was a very subdued atmosphere for the rest of the day. Fred at one point suggested they go out and play some Quidditch but even Harriet wasn’t interested. On top of feeling sorry for the Weasleys, she was also curious where Hedwig and Pigwidgeon had gone. She knew she’d seen Hedwig that morning at breakfast before they left. Even stranger, Charlie said that he checked in Percy’s room to use his owl, Hermes, to send a letter to Mr Weasley and Percy, and even Hermes was gone. No one else seemed to share Harriet’s curiosity however, when she brought it up.

When Mr Weasley returned that night, it was another wave of emotions. Mr Weasley was even more broken up over Errol’s passing than Mrs Weasley had been. The rest of the Weasley family sat in awkward silence in the living room giving Mr and Mrs Weasley some space in the kitchen. It had been difficult seeing Mrs Weasley’s pain, but it was nothing to Mr Weasley’s.

Even Percy was sitting with everyone, despite how much he was complaining about the work he had to do when he first arrived before they broke the news to him.

“There’s never been a day of my life without Errol around… for any of us,” Percy said randomly into the heavy silence.

“Me either,” Bill said.

Charlie grimaced and put a big hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Percy sighed and put one of his hands on Charlie’s, patting it.

Harriet had always wondered why the Weasleys had kept using Errol despite his age instead of getting a new, younger owl. As she looked around at the pained faces pretending not to hear the choked voices of Mr and Mrs Weasley in the kitchen, she finally understood. Errol wasn’t just an owl to the Weasleys. To the Weasleys, Errol was in fact another Weasley. She suddenly really wished Hedwig was back.

Finally, Mr and Mrs Weasley came into the living room. Mr Weasley’s hands were trembling as they held the box Bill had brought that now contained Errol.

“Okay… let’s go out and lay him to rest, everyone,” Mr Weasley said. His voice was shaking as much as his hands.

Everyone rose without a word. Harriet, Dora, and Hermione hung back a bit as the Weasleys moved into the back garden. It was impossible for Harriet not to feel like an outsider intruding on the Weasley family’s grief. As she looked into Hermione and Dora’s faces, Harriet could tell she was not alone in this feeling.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy lit some lanterns and set them around the small grave that Charlie had dug. Harriet was surprised to see that by the looks of it, Charlie had used an actual shovel to dig it.

They made a semi-circle around the grave and Mr Weasley knelt next to it and gently laid the box down into it. Then he rose and stepped back to re-join the circle. Mrs Weasley hooked an arm in his and rested her head against him. Harriet looked at Dora and Hermione standing either side of her. She held out her hands to them and each took one. Ronnie sniffed and gave a little sob and Dora gently hooked her arm in Ronnie’s and rested her head on Ronnie’s shoulder as Mrs Weasley had done. Ronnie looked down at Dora, went a little red before gently resting her cheek on the top of Dora’s head in return.

They stood in silence for a while. Once or twice someone tried to speak but couldn’t.

Finally, Bill broke the silence. “I’ll never forget when he brought me my first letter at Hogwarts. He was so bloody big he toppled two jugs of pumpkin juice.”

Mr Weasley gave a little choke that this time sounded more like a laugh than a sob. “He always was a clumsy old boy,” Mr Weasley said.

The Weasleys then went on to list off their old memories of Errol. Harriet, Hermione and Dora stayed silent, except for the occasional laugh or sniffle or sob depending on the memory.

At last, Mr and Mrs Weasley said they were going to turn in. Little by little, everyone else did too. Only Charlie remained outside to bury Errol and he was still sleeping outside in his tent.

By now it was nearly midnight. The girls headed up to their room and quietly got ready for bed. Harriet lay there for what felt like a long time, listening to the slow steady breathing and the gentle breeze that was fluttering Ronnie’s curtains through the open window. She had just started to finally nod off when she heard it: a slight skittering on the window sill.

Harriet rolled over and put on her glasses. Hedwig was back, sitting on the sill with not only Pigwidgeon, but two more owls as well. Harriet squinted and recognized Scott and Marcus’ owls, Alba and Hesper.

“You’re back!” Harriet said excitedly and sat up.

“What?” Dora muttered, half-asleep.

“Hedwig and Widgie are back,” Harriet said. “Scott and Marcus’ owls are here too.”

She hurried over to the window and got down on her knees. She wrapped her arms around Hedwig and hugged the owl as tightly as she dared without causing harm. Hedwig hooted and nibbled the temple of Harriet’s glasses. Pigwidgeon meanwhile fluttered over twittering noisily onto Ronnie’s bed and hopped up and down on Ronnie’s head a few times.

“Piiggiiieeeee,” Ronnie moaned. “I’m sleepiiiing.”

Then, Harriet heard it.

“Shhhh,” she shushed, listening hard.

“What is it?” Dora asked.

“Shhhh,” Harriet repeated. “Wait…”

She heard it again. Low hooting somewhere in the distance. Then another owl started up. Then another.

“What on earth?” Hermione asked, joining Harriet at the window.

It sounded as though there was at least a dozen owls out there now. “You lot awake?” Harriet heard Charlie call up to them from the back garden.

“Yeah,” Harriet called back.

“Get down here,” he said, smiling up at them from the darkness. “You’re not going to want to miss this.”

They hastily pulled on socks and jeans and headed down. By the time they got into the back garden, the number of owls sounded like it had doubled. Hedwig soared down onto Harriet’s shoulder, puffing up a little the way she always did when she was proud of herself. The hooting grew loud and louder.

Charlie was beaming as he walked over to them. “Hear that?” he asked, unnecessarily. “Owls’ lament… never thought I’d ever hear one.”

“An owls’ lament?” Dora asked.

“Yeah, for Errol,” Charlie replied. “They’re saying their goodbyes too.”

Harriet looked around in wonder. She couldn’t see any of the owls, but by the sound of it there had to be at least a hundred. On her shoulder, Hedwig began adding her hoots to the mix, as did Pigwidgeon and even Hermes who was sitting on the nearby picnic table with Hesper and Alba.

“Wow…” Dora said, actually turning around in circles as the hooting continued to get louder and louder.

It seemed to have awoken the rest of the family, as before long everyone came out to join them. Harriet smiled at Hedwig.

“That’s where you were… you three were letting everyone know that he’d passed away, weren’t you?”

Hedwig paused in her hooting to puff up her feathers with pride even more and twitter softly.

“This has to be every owl for miles and miles,” Fred said. “Blimey…”

“Oh Arthur, it’s the send-off he deserves, isn’t it?” Mrs Weasley said finally smiling.

“Yes dear,” Mr Weasley agreed, hugging Mrs Weasley close. “It is.”


	11. Back to Hogwarts

“Where would we be without our traditions? Probably a lot farther down the road.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet, Ronnie, Dora, and Hermione flattened themselves against the wall as Mr Weasley hurtled past them. He was in such haste that his robes were on backwards. It was September the first, and they were finally getting ready to make their way to King’s Cross for the train ride to Hogwarts.

The four girls entered the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was bustling around, muttering about trying to find a quill. Mr Weasley was bent over the fire and talking breathlessly. Harriet wondered what Mr Weasley was doing talking to a fire, before she finally saw past Mr Weasley. Her jaw fell open.

Mr Weasley wasn’t talking to the fire. He was talking to Mr Diggory’s head which was floating in the fire. It was speaking rapidly, apparently oblivious to the flames licking around its bearded chin and ears.

“—Muggle neighbours heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those—what do you call them—please-men. Arthur, you’ve got to get over there.”

“Here!” Mrs Weasley said, pressing a bottle of ink, parchment, and quill into Mr Weasley’s hands.

“It’s a real stroke of luck I heard about it,” Mr Diggory’s head went on. “Had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I saw the Improper Use of Magic lot getting ready to set off. If Rita gets hold of this one, Arthur…”

“Well, what does Mad-Eye say happened?” Mr Weasley asked. “Did you hear?”

Mr Diggory’s head rolled its eyes. “Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says they were creeping towards his house but got ambushed by his dustbins.”

“What did the dustbins do?” Mr Weasley asked, scribbling frantically.

“Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell,” Mr Diggory said. “Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up.”

Mr Weasley groaned rubbing his forehead. “And what about the intruder?”

Mr Diggory rolled his eyes once more. “Arthur, you know Mad-Eye. Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there’s a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he’s had it—think of his record! We’ve got to get him off on a more minor charge, something in your department. What are exploding dustbins worth?”

“Well, we’ve never charged him with any Misuse of Muggle Artefacts issues before, so we could just give him a warning…” Mr Weasley said, ink splattering as he dabbed his quill into the ink bottle hurriedly and continued writing. “Mad-Eye didn’t use his wand, did he? He didn’t attack anyone?”

“I’ll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything in sight. But they’ll have a hard time proving it. There aren’t any casualties.”

“All right, I’m off,” Mr Weasley said, stuffing his notes into his pocket and hurrying from the kitchen.

Mr Diggory looked around at Mrs Weasley. “Sorry about this, Molly,” he said, more calmly “bothering you so early and all, but Arthur’s the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye’s supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night of all nights…”

“Not to worry, Amos,” Mrs Weasley said. “Sure you won’t have a bit of toast or anything before you go?”

“Oh, go on then,” Mr Diggory said, chortling.

Mrs Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from the stack on the kitchen table, put it in some fire tongs, and held it out for Mr Diggory. Mr Diggory’s head took the toast in its teeth and smiled awkwardly.

“Fanks,” he said cheerfully before vanishing.

A few minutes later, Mr Weasley returned to the kitchen. He called goodbyes to everyone, turned his robes around the right way, set a comb to start combing his hair all on its own and grabbed a piece of toast for himself.

“I’d better hurry,” Mr Weasley said through a mouthful of toast. “Have a good term, girls. Molly, are you going to be alright taking the kids to King’s Cross on your own?”

“Oh of course I will, Arthur,” Mrs Weasley said. “I’ll have Bill and Charlie with me. You look after Mad-Eye.”

“Oh, right, right, right,” Mr Weasley said hurriedly. He bid everyone in the room a further farewell before he Disapparated with the usual loud crack.

“Someone say Mad-Eye?” Bill asked as he entered the kitchen, Fred and George in tow. “What’s he up to now?”

“He says someone was trying to break into his house last night,” Mrs Weasley answered.

“Mad-Eye Moody?” George asked as he took a seat and began to spread marmalade over a piece of toast. “Isn’t he that nutter—”

“Your father is very fond of Mad-Eye Moody,” Mrs Weasley said sternly.

“Yeah, well, dad collects plugs,” Fred muttered to Harriet as Mrs Weasley left the kitchen, leaning aside as Charlie leaned past them to grab some toast. “Birds of a feather…”

“Well Moody was a damn good Auror in his day,” Bill said.

“Old friend of Dumbledore and Howe, isn’t he?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, well Dumbledore and Howe aren’t exactly what you’d call normal either,” said Fred. “I mean okay they’re geniuses, but still.”

“Um, if I can interject, uh, who _is_ Mad-Eye Moody?” Dora asked.

“An old ex-Auror,” Charlie explained. “Met him once when Dad took me to work with him. One of the best Aurors ever to work for the Ministry. Daniel was one of his protégés. Moody worked really closely with Howe from what I gather. Howe figured out who did it, and Moody brought them in. Made them both loads of enemies though, but as Moody was the one who did the actual arresting, he’s had the bigger target painted on his head. He’s been getting pretty paranoid about that now he’s gotten older. Doesn’t trust anyone… sees dark wizards everywhere…”

Mrs Weasley walked down into the town to order some taxis to take them to King’s Cross. Percy wasn’t coming as he had to work.

“Arthur tried to get Ministry cars for us,” Mrs Weasley explained in an undertone as they loaded their trunks into the boots of the three taxis. “But there weren’t any to spare, what with the Ministry hunting for Kinney and the former Death Eaters and all… oh dear, they don’t look happy, do they?”

The taxi drivers did indeed look miserable as they helped load the trunks. It was a total downpour, and everyone kept slipping on the wet grass and muddy soil. Pigwidgeon was fluttering about his cage, screeching wildly. The mood wasn’t helped when Fred’s trunk fell and burst open, setting off some of his Dr Filibuster’s Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. It was made worse by the fact that the commotion startled Crookshanks who clawed his way up the nearest driver’s leg.

They were crammed into the vehicles and to make matters even more unpleasant Crookshanks was still on edge. He would occasionally panic as they drove along resulting in Harriet, Hermione, Dora and Ronnie being covered in scratches by the time the taxis arrived at King’s Cross. Not only that, but the rain had lost none of its potency and they were all soaked and shivering as they hurried up to the entrance.

Despite the driving rain, Harriet paused on the threshold and listened. She had to hear it. Hearing the violin the night of the attack on the World Cup campsites had reminded Harriet that last year she had not been able to hear the violin because she had been ushered under guard into the station by Aurors.

“Harriet, come on,” Ronnie said sticking her head back out.

“Just a second,” Harriet said, still listening.

“Are you mad?” Ronnie asked, looking bewildered.

Harriet sighed. The rain was coming down too hard for her to hear, and even then, the violinist would have to be mad himself to be sitting out in weather like this. Harriet felt her shoulders sag as she followed the rest inside.

Walking beside her friends, she pondered the violinist. Somehow, deep down, Harriet knew that the violin she’d heard at the match was the same as the one the man had played her first time at King’s Cross. Yet, there was a tiny voice that told her it was unlikely. Overall, Harriet was sure it couldn’t be a coincidence. She paused again as another memory sprang to mind. She’d also heard a violin the night Colin Creevey had been petrified, when she was trying to fall asleep afterwards.

What did that mean? She’d been greeted upon entering the magical world by a violin. Then other times when scary things had happened, there had also been a mysterious violin to comfort her. She thought of the violinist. What if he was an Auror assigned to guard her and look out for her? But that didn’t make sense to Harriet. If that were the case, surely she wouldn’t have needed Dawlish. And assigning an Auror to watch one person for four years was a bit excessive, wasn’t it?

“Harriet, are you alright?” Hermione asked.

Harriet gave her head a shake as she came back to reality. “Oh, yeah, just remembering something.”

“What’s that?” Dora asked.

“My first trip to King’s Cross,” Harriet explained. “There was a violinist outside the door when I first arrived.”

“Oh yes!” Hermione said. “I saw him too!”

“So did I!” Dora said, her eyes going wide in remembrance. “My mum put some coins in his cup.”

Ronnie frowned. “I didn’t see him…” she said sounding a little put out. “But we got there late and we were in a real hurry trying to get to the train. If it wasn’t for Fred spotting you, with Hedwig, talking to the guard, we would have missed you too.”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm when she looked at Fred as he walked through the barrier. Without Fred, Harriet might not have made it onto the train in time for her very first trip to Hogwarts.

“Well, let’s get to the train so we can get a good compartment,” Dora said smiling.

“And find the boys,” Hermione added.

They hurried over to the secret entrance to Platform 9 ¾. Dora and Ronnie went first, leaning against the wall as casually as they could andvanishing from sight. Harriet and Hermione then stepped up with their trolleys. Harriet paused again and her face broke into an instant smile. There it was; just loud enough to hear over the din was the unmistakable sound of a violin.

“Ready?” Hermione asked.

Harriet was about to ask Hermione if she could hear it but something about the look on Hermione’s face told Harriet that she couldn’t. Harriet simply smiled and nodded. They followed Dora and Ronnie’s lead, leaning against the wall as though resting. At once, they popped through onto the other side.

The noise level tripled. Not only was there the din of voices, but there was also the hooting of hundreds of owls, the meowing of hundreds of cats, and most welcoming, the steady hissing of the big scarlet steam-engine that dominated the platform: the Hogwarts Express.

Ronnie and Dora had already found the boys. Harriet was relieved to see Marcus was smiling and laughing with everyone else. They had all been worrying about him over the last week since the attack. Dora had also found her own family though Harriet didn’t see Emma with them.

“Where’s Emma?” Harriet asked.

Dora smiled and rolled her eyes. “Running around finding everyone in her dorm to tell them all about Maximus.”

Harriet laughed. They loaded their trunks into the same compartment as the boys, and hurried back onto the platform to say their goodbyes.

“Well, might be seeing you sooner than you think,” Charlie said with a chuckle as he hugged Ginny goodbye.

“Why?” Fred asked.

“Oh you’ll see,” Charlie said, his grin growing. “But don’t tell Perce I mentioned it. ‘Classified information until the Ministry sees fit to release it’ and all that.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get some time off to come watch some of it,” Bill said rubbing his chin in thought.

“Some of what?” George pressed.

Just then, the whistle blew and Mrs Weasley began chivvying them all onto the train. They hurried to their compartment and leaned out the window.

“Thank you for having us to stay, Mrs Weasley,” Hermione said.

“Oh you’re quite welcome, dears,” Mrs Weasley said. “I’d invite you all to stay for Christmas too, but—well—I imagine you’ll all want to stay this year. What with one thing and another.”

“ _Mum!_ ” Ronnie moaned, her own impatience getting the better of her too. “What do you know that we don’t!?”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll find out this evening,” Mrs Weasley said. “Mind you, knowing you lot I’m quite glad they’ve changed the rules!”

“What rules?” the whole group asked at once.

“I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you soon. Now, promise me you’ll all behave yourselves. _Especially_ you two,” Mrs Weasley said bending a suspicious eye on Fred and George. Apparently, she’d gotten over the fear of her last words to them being a reprimand.

At that moment, the pistons hissed and the train lurched forward. “Tell us what’s happening at Hogwarts!” Fred called out the window after the three.

However, Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie merely waved as they shrank smaller and smaller. The train hadn’t even rounded the corner when she, Bill, and Charlie Disapparated.

Fred and George both hmphed and headed off in search of their best friend, Lee Jordan. The rest sat and quickly closed the window to keep out the rain.

“Bagman wanted to tell us what was going on at Hogwarts,” Ronnie muttered darkly. “Remember?”

“Uh, no?” Harriet said.

“Oh yes, you were in the tent talking with Daniel and Remus,” Hermione said.

“Shhh,” Dora hissed and jabbed her thumb at the open door. The group went silent and listened as an all too familiar voice drifted in.

“…Father considered sending me to Durmstrang, you know. He knew the Headmaster, before, you know…”

“But it’s so far away,” Pansy said, sounding a bit shocked.

“Yeah, that’s what my mother said,” Draco replied. “Father thought Durmstrang had a more sensible line than Hogwarts, especially with Dumbledore in charge. You know, because Dumbledore’s such a mud—gle lover.”

“That’s true,” drawled Blaise.

Harriet squinted, thinking. She’d caught it, though she wasn’t sure anyone else had. By the sound of it, Draco had almost said “Mudblood,” but he’d corrected himself and said Muggle instead.

_Hypocrite,_ Harriet thought, thinking of Kenley.

“Not only that, but at Durmstrang they actually _learn_ dark magic, under Karkaroff, instead of just that defence rubbish.”

“Apparently that’s changing now,” Pixie Fanfarró said, disdainfully. “Some new headmistress my father said. Most aren’t happy with her, think she’s an upstart. Apparently she only won by a single vote.”

“That’s democracy for you,” Blaise muttered darkly.

Hermione glowered and tip-toed to the door, sliding it shut as quietly as she could.

“I Wish they’d _all_ gone to Durmstrang,” she said angrily as she sat back down. “Then we wouldn’t have had to put up with them.”

“Hear, hear,” Marcus muttered.

“Where is Durmstrang?” Ronnie asked.

“Somewhere in the far north,” Scott said. “Most people think it’s somewhere in northern Scandinavia, like Norway or Sweden.”

“You mean no one knows?” Harriet asked.

“Well, the people who go there, or went there, do,” Hermione explained. “But it’s a carefully guarded secret, just like Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts is a secret?” Ronnie asked in bewilderment.

Dora rolled her eyes. “Of course it is… could you really just hop on a broomstick and fly to Hogwarts on your own?”

“Well… no,” Ronnie admitted.

“Right,” Scott said. “I know it’s unplottable too, because no one’s been able to put it on a map.”

“Un-what-able?” Harriet asked.

“Un- _plot-_ table,” Hermione said. “It’s an enchantment on a location that keeps it from being placed on a map. Hogwarts is the same way.”

“But Hogwarts isn’t exactly discreet,” Harriet said. “It’s a dirty-great castle on a hill right next to a great big lake in the middle of a clearing.”

“Well, the World Cup stadium was even larger,” Scott said shrugging. “Besides, Hogwarts’ defences are mostly meant to keep it hidden from Muggles.”

“How so?” Ronnie asked.

“Well, for one thing, it disguises itself so to a Muggle it looks like a mouldering old ruin with a bunch of signs around it declaring it unsafe to enter.”

Harriet felt a little light click on in her brain at this. She’d heard someone talk about seeing Hogwarts as a ruin before. But who, and where? Kieran was looking equally confused. Harriet shook her head.

“So, Hermione,” Kieran said, sounding as though he was choosing his words carefully. “Have you, you know, heard anything more about Fern?”

Hermione’s lips tightened and she sighed. “No… I didn’t think to ask her about her address to send her letters or an owl, or a phone number to call,” Hermione said. “There wasn’t really time… and I wasn’t thinking… I was just so…”

The rest of the group gave each other significant looks.

“Hermione,” Scott said, sounding even more cautious than Kieran had. “There’s… well… something I think I realised about Fern… When she arrived, we all had our—”

“Oh, that,” Hermione said. “I know she’s a witch.”

“What?” Dora asked. “How? The wands?”

“Well, yes,” Hermione said. “That and she told me.”

“She told you?” Harriet asked. “When?”

“When I was giving her something else to wear,” Hermione replied. “She saw our wands and asked. She wasn’t really ready for anyone else to know that she’s a witch though.”

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

Hermione sniffed. “It’s her business,” she said, sounding bitter.

Harriet and the others exchanged looks again. Scott tried to smile. “Well, that’s a funny coincidence though, isn’t it? You both being Muggle-born.”

“She’s not a Muggle-born,” Hermione said. “She’s a half-blood, her father is a wizard.”

“Ah…” Marcus said, gravely. “So… that’s the reason her parents…?”

“Yes,” Hermione said.

“So… did she tell you where she goes to school at least?” Dora asked, sounding much kinder than usual.

Hermione sighed. “No… I didn’t even think to ask about that, either… it can’t be Beauxbatons though. She and Camille would be in the same year and Camille said she had never seen her before.”

The rain continued to fall hard as the train trundled on. They were quiet for a while before the conversation reopened on the subject of what was going to happen at Hogwarts. Harriet and Dora were hoping it was going to be a Quidditch exhibition, after the World Cup. Hermione and Scott meanwhile seemed convinced it was going to be something academic in nature.

They bought a sizeable stack of Cauldron Cakes off the lunch trolley. Before long, other friends of theirs popped in to say hello. Jeremy and Isabella stopped in first. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom also stopped by. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette, though its magic seemed to be fading, and it sounded exhausted as it continued to squeak “Troy! Mullet! Moran!”

They spent the next hour crowded into the compartment recounting the match. After a while, Harriet realized that Marcus and Hermione had been almost silent the whole time. She looked over and saw them sitting by the window, talking together quietly. Harriet grimaced and suddenly felt a great pang of guilt. Despite how much better he had seemed, clearly talking about the match was still a painful memory for him.

“We even got to see Viktor Krum right up close too,” Ronnie said to Neville as he listened to their tales with awe. “Right in the top box.”

“They let _you_ in the top-box?” sneered a cold voice.

Harriet closed her eyes and willed herself to be calm. Pansy and Pixie had made their compulsory appearance in the doorway to torment them.

“I don’t remember asking you to join us,” Harriet said, coolly.

“Hmmm, I forgot the part where we were supposed to care,” Pixie retorted. “Speaking of not caring; not so prettied up this year, is she Pansy?”

“No, but I suppose spending so much time with Weasley will lower anyone’s standards,” Pansy said, looking down at Harriet’s outfit with disdain.

“Yeah,” Pixie sniffed before turning to Dean and Seamus. “You two better watch out or it’ll start affecting you too.”

“Wow…” Dean said, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead.

“What?” Pansy snapped, narrowing her eyes.

Dean shrugged. “Nothing, just never thought I’d meet someone so genuinely ugly on the inside it shows on the outside. You, Seamus?”

“Think I’d rather snog me a banshee,” Seamus agreed.

Pansy and Pixie’s faces went red. Ronnie howled with laughter and Dora gave Dean a high-five. The two girls spun on their heels and stormed back into their compartment, slamming the door shut so hard that one of the panes of glass fell out and shattered.

“That was great,” Marcus said patting Seamus’ shoulder.

“Seriously,” Dean said, snorting with disgust. “The hell do they think they are? _Oooooo, we’re Slytherins, we’re pure-bloods, our families are rich; doesn’t that make us the hottest things on earth_?”

Dean went into a little sing-song voice and everyone laughed even harder. Before long, Dean and Seamus went to hunt down some other friends. They chatted quietly until finally the train gave another little lurch and began to slow down.

They hurried off the train, heads bent against the howling wind and the torrential rain. However, even the darkness of the storm and thick rain was not enough to hide the unmistakable silhouette of Hagrid as they neared the carriages.

“Hiya, Hagrid!” Harriet yelled, beaming up at the grizzled mountain of a man.

“All righ’, Harriet?” Hagrid bellowed back. “See yeh at the feast, if’n we don’t drown!”

Harriet grimaced looking down at the storm-tossed lake. The little crowd of first-years gathered around him didn’t look all too reassured either, with the exception of one very small boy who was quite literally bouncing up and down with apparent excitement.

The crowd was moving slowly as everyone fought over carriages to get out of the rain and up to the castle. They finally reached one and everyone climbed in as quickly as they could. Kieran was about to pull the door shut when he paused.

“Come on,” Dora said, wringing out her shoulder length hair. “It’s soaking!”

“Where’s Marcus?” he asked.

Harriet looked around. Marcus hadn’t gotten into the carriage with them.

“Marcus, mate?” Kieran called leaning out the door and looking towards the front of their carriage.

Marcus slowly stepped into view. His face was ghostly white, and his eyes were popping. Beside him stood Ginny who was looking very worried, and Luna Lovegood who had a hand on Marcus’ arm.

“S-sorry,” Marcus said climbing into the carriage. “M-my… mind just played a trick on me.”

Everyone gave him sympathetic looks and said no more. Ginny and Luna meanwhile had hurried off to another carriage. Kieran finally shut the door and the carriage began to move forward. Marcus kept looking determinedly away from the little window in the front of the carriage as they went.

Harriet meanwhile had her cheek pressed against her window as she tried to catch sight of Hogwarts castle. Finally, she could make out the lights hanging in the dark, rainy, night sky. It was too dark out to make out the castle itself until a bolt of lightning illuminated it.

The carriage stopped underneath the carriage port and the group hurried as quickly as they could up through the waiting open doors.

“Blimey,” Ronnie said, brushing her soaking hair from her face. “The lake’s going to flood at this rate—AHH!”

A large, bright red balloon filled with water had just dropped from the ceiling onto Ronnie’s head. As a result, her hair now completely covered her face like a red sheet. Another water balloon fell and hit at everyone’s feet. Harriet felt ice cold water splash over her trainers.

A panic began and people started hurrying into the Great Hall to escape the sudden onslaught of water-balloons. Harriet risked a glance up and was not at all surprised to see the flamboyant, diminutive figure of Peeves the Poltergeist floating some twenty feet above them, taking aim with another water balloon. His face was twisted in uncontained glee.

“PEEVES!” bellowed the angry and unmistakable voice of Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House. “Peeves, get down here NOW!”

Professor McGonagall had come storming out of the Great Hall. She was in such a hurry that she skidded on the wet stone floor. Her hand reached out and she accidentally caught Hermione around the neck as she tried to steady herself.

“Ack—oh, terribly sorry, Miss Granger.”

“That’s alright, Professor,” Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

“Peeves, I said get down here, now,” Professor McGonagall snapped.

“Not doing nothing!” Peeves cackled and fired off another balloon at some passing fifth year girls. “Already all wet, aren’t they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeee!”

Peeves lobbed another balloon at some second years who had just entered and Professor McGonagall played her final card. “I shall call the Headmaster! I’m warning you, Peeves!”

That did it. The only two people in the school, as far as Harriet could tell, that Peeves ever listened to were Professor Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin House ghost. Peeves stuck out his tongue at Professor McGonagall, threw the rest of the balloons up into the air to rain down on the rest of the students and rocketed off up the marble staircase, cackling madly.

“Well, move along,” Professor McGonagall said stiffly to the soaked students. “Into the Great Hall, get along, now.”

Everyone was slipping and sliding as they made their way into the Great Hall. Ronnie was grumbling miserably as she held her sopping wet hair out of her face and Dora was doing her best not to laugh too hard.

They parted going to their respective house tables. Even though during the year students could sit with their friends, during the start and end of year feasts everyone sat at their house tables. Traditionally, students had been expected to sit at their tables for all meals, but the arrival of the American students at the start of Harriet’s second year had smashed that tradition to pieces on their very first day.

Harriet neared the Gryffindor table when something very large moved in front of her. Even without looking up, Harriet knew who had stepped in front of her at once as she heard the deep, rumbling chuckle.

“Aurochius!” Harriet said excitedly and jumped up to hug the towering minotaur around his middle.

“Hello, little one,” Aurochius said, patting her back as she hugged him. “Happy to be back, I see?”

“Definitely,” Harriet said, beaming as she let go and looking up into his bullish face. “So you’re still guarding things?”

“Oh yes,” Aurochius replied. “But we’re only guarding the entrances to the grounds and castle now.”

“Cool,” Harriet said, smiling. While she hadn’t been thrilled with Aurochius following her around all the time as her bodyguard the previous year, he had always been very decent to her. Harriet looked around. “Are Meinos and the rest still around?”

“Indeed,” Aurochius said and nodded to the staff table. Meinos was there, sitting with tiny Professor Flitwick, chatting merrily. “And the fauns are around too. They preferred to celebrate in the village instead. It’s… well… more their style.”

Harriet rolled her eyes, taking this to mean that they were drinking. Harriet gave Aurochius one more quick hug, and then hurried over to the table to sit with the others.

“Hiya, Harriet!” called Colin Creevey, in his usual, overly-excited tone.

“Hi, Colin,” Harriet said, warily.

“Guess what, Harriet? My brother’s starting! My brother, Dennis!”

“Oh, that’s very nice, Colin,” Hermione said.

“He’s really excited,” Colin said, quite literally trembling with excitement. “Just hope he’s in Gryffindor too! Keep your fingers crossed, Harriet!”

“Yeah, will do,” Harriet said.

She turned her attention to the staff table now. There were the usual familiar faces, though it seemed as though there were more empty chairs than usual. Hagrid was crossing the lake with the first years, and Professor McGonagall was out cleaning up the Entrance Hall.

“Where’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Hermione asked as she surveyed the table.

It had been many years since Hogwarts had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted longer than a year. From what Harriet understood, it had been that way since before she was born. Many people thought the post was jinxed.

“Do you think they couldn’t get anyone?” Hermione asked, anxiously.

“Well, maybe that’ll mean Professor Dumbledore will teach them?” Marcus asked, sounding quite hopeful.

Harriet kept studying the professors. There was Professor Flitwick chatting with Meinos as she’d noted before. Then there was Professor Sprout, the Herbology Professor, who was talking with Professor Sinistra who taught Astronomy. Professor Spring, the Muggle Studies professor, was sitting on Professor Sinistra’s other side.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting right in the middle of the table. He was leaning back in his chair, staring at the enchanted ceiling, which looked just like the stormy sky outside, deep in thought. There was an empty chair on his other side which Harriet assumed was Professor McGonagall’s. Then came Professor Snape, his sallow skin, hooked nose, and jet-black, greasy hair unmistakable.

Harriet had a very awkward relationship with Professor Snape. She found him terribly confusing. He generally pretended that Harriet did not exist, and at the same time was very mean to all of her friends in his Potions class. And yet, at the end of Harriet’s second year, he had risked his life to help save Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, and very nearly got crushed by a cave-in. Then the following year, Professor Snape had very nearly turned both Sirius, Remus, and Daniel over to the Dementors to be Kissed and refused flat out to entertain the idea of their innocence, all because of a stupid (albeit deadly) prank that Sirius had pulled on him while they attended Hogwarts together.

After Professor Snape was another empty chair. Harriet guessed this one was for the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, as the next seat down was filled by the large, strapping form of Professor Stratton. Professor Snape had a known fear of Professor Stratton, which stemmed from the same prank Sirius had played all those years ago.

Professor Stratton had come the previous year to take Professor Binns’ place as History of Magic professor. At least that’s what the school was told. Harriet and her friends found out differently after Sirius kidnapped both Harriet and Erica, and Daniel and Remus told them all the truth. Professor Stratton, like Professor Lupin, was a werewolf, but not just any werewolf. He was known as a Blood Wolf, one born into a long line of werewolves, who were able to control the condition. He had come both to keep Professor Lupin in check when he transformed, and to act as a mentor to Jeremy Owen, who was also a Blood Wolf.

The final chair was enormous, and could only be Hagrid’s. Harriet looked at the raging storm above them as lightning flashed across the sky. She discreetly crossed her fingers under the table that all the first-years would make it okay.

Harriet didn’t have long to wait. Less than a minute later, the door to the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall swept into the room, leading a long line of first-years in front of the staff table.

All of the first years were completely soaked from head to foot. They were all shivering from both nerves and the cold as they surveyed the four house tables. The only exception was the smallest of them, a mousey-haired boy who was wrapped in Hagrid’s moleskin overcoat. He looked positively beside himself with excitement. He gave Colin an excited wave and mouthed ‘I fell in the lake!’ By the look on his face, it was the greatest thing to have ever happened to him in his life.

Professor McGonagall moved to the centre of the lined up first years and set down a three-legged stool and placed upon it an ancient, patched and dirty wizard’s hat. Everyone in the room watched the hat with rapt attention. The first-years with apprehension, the rest of the school with anticipation. Finally, a tear in the brim opened like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

 

_‘A thousand years or more ago,_

_When I was newly sewn,_

_There lived four wizards of renown,_

_Whose names are still well known:_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

_They hatched a daring plan_

_To educate young sorcerers_

_Thus Hogwarts School began._

_Now each of these four founders_

_Formed their own house, for each_

_Did value different virtues_

_In the ones they had to teach._

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

_Prized far beyond the rest;_

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

_Would always be the best;_

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_

_Most worthy of admission;_

_And power-hungry Slytherin_

_Loved those of great ambition._

_While still alive they did divide_

_Their favourites from the throng,_

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

_When they were dead and gone?_

_‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

_He whipped me off his head_

_The founders put some brains in me_

_So I could choose instead!_

_Now slip me snug about your ears,_

_I’ve never yet been wrong,_

_I’ll have a look inside your mind_

_And tell where you belong!’_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. It died down slowly and Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the Hat. When the Hat calls your house, you will _remove_ the Hat, and take your place at your house table,” Professor McGonagall said before clearing her throat and calling the first name.

“Ackerley, Stewart.”

“Ravenclaw!”

The young boy blushed but smiled as the Ravenclaw table welcomed him warmly. Harriet saw Scott make room for him and introduced himself to the new boy. Next to Scott, Atsuko leaned over to greet Stewart as well, and the young boy went very red indeed as she smiled at him.

“Uh oh,” Dean chuckled nearby. “Looks like McIntyre will have some competition.”

“Baddock, Malcolm.”

“Slytherin!”

Fred and George began their usual boos and hisses they always reserved for students sorted into Slytherin. Erica Quoy, George’s girlfriend, elbowed him in the ribs and he blushed and ceased with the booing. Fred rolled his eyes, but he too stopped. That was another change the Americans had helped bring about when they arrived. They didn’t carry the same animosity for Slytherins that the local students had.

“Branstone, Eleanor.”

“Hufflepuff!”

“Cauldwell, Owen.”

“Hufflepuff!”

“Creevey, Dennis.”

Tiny Dennis Creevey stepped forward, stumbling a little on Hagrid’s moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through the door behind the staff table. Hagrid drew his massive wand, which he’d been allowed to have after Harriet had cleared his name at the end of her second year for both of the Chamber of Secret episodes. He pointed it at his cloak and said: “ _Accier_.”

The cloak jumped and did fly towards Hagrid, but not in a straight line. The hem of it caught Professor Snape in the face and Professor Stratton just managed to duck out of the way in time to avoid being covered in it himself. Professor Snape glared, massaging his cheek which was red from where one of the fasteners had caught him and Hagrid muttered an embarrassed apology before taking his seat.

The laughter that had broken out (which Harriet noted was more directed at Professor Snape getting hit than at Hagrid’s inexpert spell-work), died down and Dennis finally took a seat and put on the hat.

“Gryffindor!” cried the hat, quickly.

Harriet applauded with the rest as Dennis took a seat next to his brother.

“Colin, I fell in!” he said, his voice high-pitched and squeaky. “It was brilliant! Something grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!”

“Cool!” Colin said, just as excited. “It was probably the giant squid!”

“WOW!” Dennis gasped, as though this was the most amazing thing to have ever happened to someone in human history.

“Dennis! Dennis! See that girl down there? With the black hair and the glasses?”

Harriet groaned and returned her attention to the Sorting just in time to hear Emma Dobbs being sorted into Ravenclaw.

The Sorting ploughed on, with some familiar faces. The first was Lucy Flume, who lived with her aunt and uncle who ran Honeyduke’s. There was also AJ’s little sister, Mable. Both girls became Gryffindors.

Ronnie groaned and thumped her forehead down on her plate. “Hurry up,” she moaned holding her stomach. “I’m starving…”

“Now, now, Ronnie,” the Gryffindor Ghost, Nearly Headless Nick said in a cheerful reprimand. “The Sorting is much more important than food!”

“Of course it is if you’re dead,” Ronnie muttered.

“Madley, Laura.”

“Hufflepuff!”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“I do hope our Gryffindors this year are up to scratch,” Nearly Headless Nick said.

“McDonald, Natalie.”

“Gryffindor!”

They paused to applaud as Natalie joined the table before Nearly Headless Nick continued. “I mean to say, we don’t want to lose our winning streak do we? House championship three years in a row!”

“Pritchard, Graham.”

“Slytherin!”

“Quirke, Orla.”

“Ravenclaw!”

Now the crowd had thinned down, Harriet spotted two more familiar faces in the crowd of new students. The first was:

“Seeley, Babette.”

“Hufflepuff!”

A little ways down the table, AJ, Mable, and Ben, Babette’s cousins and fellow American refugees, gave her sad little waves as she walked over to join the Hufflepuff table. The next, unmistakable face (given she was an identical twin), was:

“Sinistra, Rosie!”

Professor Sinistra’s other twin daughter, who had been attending Rathlin, made her way to the stool. She sat, put the hat upon her head, and waited.

“Ravenclaw!” the Sorting Hat cried.

A little ways down the Gryffindor table, Nanette, Rosie’s twin, moaned. Rosie gave her twin a sad little wave too as she joined the Ravenclaws. Harriet saw Parvati give her sister, Padma, a significant look from across the hall and Padma nodded, quickly making room for Rosie and greeting her warmly.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Parvati said, leaning over to talk to Nanette. “After this meal you two can hang out as much as you want other than in classes and such.”

Nanette smiled looking quite reassured. Over at the Ravenclaw table, apparently Padma and her friends were telling Rosie the same thing, as Rosie smiled with the same look of relief.

Finally, only two students remained.

“Whitby, Kevin.”

“Hufflepuff!”

“Wyrven, Spencer.”

“Hufflepuff!”

The Hufflepuff table hooted and cheered uproariously as Spencer joined them. It was one of the common Hogwarts superstitions that the house that got the last new student in the Sorting would do well in the House Cup tournament. Although Harriet found it amusing that it was also a common Hogwarts superstition that the house which received the first new student in the Sorting would do well in the House Cup tournament.

Harriet watched Cedric Diggory beaming handsomely as he shook Kevin and Spencer’s hands. _Well… it is their turn I suppose…_ Harriet thought to herself as she watched Cedric, wistfully.

Then, something made her pause. Cedric was only wearing a Prefect’s badge. This was his final year, Harriet recalled, the year when Head Boy and Girl were picked. Everyone Harriet knew had been sure that Cedric was a shoe-in for the position. Who could have been chosen instead?

Harriet was distracted by Professor Dumbledore rising to his feet and beaming around at them all, his arms open wide.

“Welcome!” he said jovially, his deep voice echoing around the hall in the reverent silence that fell anytime Professor Dumbledore was speaking. “I have only two words to say to you all: _Tuck in!_ ”

A wave of happy laughter and cheers of assent swept over the Great Hall as the empty serving trays filled with food before their eyes.

“You’re lucky there’s a feast at all this year, you know?” Nearly Headless Nick said as he watched them all eating with a mournful look. “After the trouble in the kitchens earlier.”

“What happened?” Harriet asked before taking a bite out of a chicken drumstick.

“Peeves, of course,” Nick replied. “The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast—well, it’s quite out of the question, you know what he’s like, utterly uncivilised, can’t see a plate of food without throwing it.”

Harriet flushed remembering the food fight she’d started in their second year.

“We held a ghosts council. The Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance but fortunately the Blood Baron put his foot down.”

“Yeah… though Peeves seemed a bit more hacked off than usual,” Ronnie grumbled. “What’d he do in the kitchens?”

“Oh the usual. Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—”

Everyone jumped as a Hermione knocked over her goblet with a clang, spilling pumpkin juice across the table.

“There are house-elves _here_?” she asked, looking scandalised. “Here at _Hogwarts?_ ”

“Well certainly,” Nearly Headless Nick said. “Largest number of any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred.”

“I’ve never seen one!”

“Well, you wouldn’t. They hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they? They only really leave to do some cleaning around the common rooms, tend the fires, all that. I mean, that’s the mark of a good house-elf, isn’t it, that you don’t know it’s there?”

“But… but they get paid, don’t they? They get holidays and sick-leave and pensions?”

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much at this that his head fell off and dangled unpleasantly from the small bit of sinew that still held it on. In spite of how hungry she had been and how much she respected Nick, the sight made Harriet push her plate away.

“Sick leave and pensions?” Nick said, putting his head back on right and fixing his ruff to help hold it on. “House-elves don’t want sick leave and pensions!”

Hermione looked down at her plate, which she’d barely touched, and pushed it away as well. Though Harriet was quite sure it was not for the same reasons she had.

“Oh come on, Hermione,” Ronnie said, her words garbled by a mouthful of Yorkshire pudding. “You’re not going to get them sick leave and pensions by starving yourself.”

“Slave labour,” Hermione said, coolly. “That’s what made this meal, _slave labour_!”

“Oh come on, Hermione,” Marcus said, trying to sound more reasonable. “I mean, okay I don’t really approve of the practice at all but think about it, is _Professor Dumbledore_ likely to be treating them like the Malfoys treated Dobby, or Crouch treated Winky?”

“Well, no… but that’s beside the point!” Hermione retorted. “He should set them free!”

“But Hermione, even with how horrible Crouch was to her, you saw how Winky reacted to being set free,” Ronnie said.

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “House-elves are pretty much all like that. It’s not great but I agree you’re not going to solve it like this.”

Hermione sniffed, staring at her plate for a full minute before she slowly pulled the plate back to herself. She poked at the food a bit, but without any real enthusiasm. Finally, as the dessert was cleared away, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet once more.

“So, now that we are all fed and watered—” Hermione ‘hmphed’ irritably “I must once more ask for your attention, while I make a few announcements.”

Harriet, who remembered what Mrs Weasley had told them about Professor Dumbledore announcing the big mystery that Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie had alluded to back on Platform 9 ¾, listened even more intently than usual.

“Firstly, Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of forbidden objects inside the castle this year has been expanded to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises… well… the entirety of Zonko’s Joke-Shop’s inventory and can be viewed in Mr Filch’s office, should anyone decide to check it.”

Professor Dumbledore’s mouth twitched a bit and he continued on.

“As always, I must remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students, and the village of Hogsmeade is off limits to all students under third year. Next, I must ask you all to extend a hearty Hogwarts welcome to our newest Head Boy and Girl. Please rise, Mister Benjamin Jackson of Gryffindor, and Miss Brenda Davies of Slytherin.”

There was an astonished silence at this pronouncement, followed by a slow rise in murmuring before people finally started clapping as Ben Jackson and Brenda Davies rose to their feet. Over at the Slytherin table, Brenda Davies was looking rather put out. Despite the still quite present animosity between Gryffindors and Slytherins, Harriet felt a pang of sympathy towards Brenda Davies.

Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were the loudest in cheering. AJ and Mable were hopping up and down excitedly and hugging their older brother with pride.

“Well, maybe now one of them has been given such a position of authority, maybe people will start showing the American students some more respect,” Hermione said.

“Doubt it,” Marcus said, darkly. Many of the students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables were giving Ben Jackson and the other Americans dirty looks. “Bet you anything they’ll just think Professor Dumbledore picked him for just that reason.”

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and everyone quieted down once more. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by another burst of lightning and a deafening roar of thunder. At the same moment, the doors to the Great Hall banged open.

There was a man standing in the doorway, leaning on a long staff and wearing a thick, black travelling cloak. He removed his hood, revealing a mane of grizzled, grey hair and he began to walk towards the staff table. As he did, there was a noticeable thunking noise that did not seem to match the movement of the walking stick. Instead, it happened every time he stepped with his right foot.

Halfway to the staff table, another flash of lightning lit his face and most of the students in the hall gasped, Harriet included. It was one of the most unsettling faces Harriet had ever seen. It looked as though every inch of his face was scarred. His mouth was slanted at an unnatural angle, and a chunk of his nose was missing. The most shocking part, however, was his eyes.

The left one was small and beady. The other was large, almost as large as a galleon, and a vivid electric blue. Not only that, but it was moving rapidly in all directions, completely independently of the left one. It didn’t seem to blink, either, and once or twice even rolled back so far that only whiteness was visible.

The man reached Professor Dumbledore and extended him a terribly scarred hand. Professor Dumbledore shook it, and the two had a quiet conversation in undertones so that no one else could hear. Professor Dumbledore then gestured to the last empty seat, and the newcomer sat. A plate of sausages appeared in front of him and he pulled the plate towards him, sniffing it suspiciously. He then took out a small knife, jabbed one of the sausages with it, and began to eat. While his normal eye was focused on the sausages, the large blue one was dancing around in his head still, taking in every student’s face.

“May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody,” Professor Dumbledore said.

No one but Professor Dumbledore or Hagrid clapped. Everyone it seemed was still too shocked by Professor Moody’s appearance to react.

“Moody,” Harriet whispered to Ronnie. “You think that’s _Mad-Eye_ Moody your dad went to help?”

“Must be,” Ronnie said, awed.

“What happened to him?” Hermione asked.

“Years of being an Auror,” Nick said, his voice full of respect.

Moody didn’t seem to care about his rather cold welcome. Instead, he simply reached into his robes pocket and pulled out a hip-flask, taking a swig from it. As he did so, the hem of his robes lifted just enough for Harriet to see that instead of a normal human foot, his right leg ended in a wooden leg that had been carved into a menacing, clawed foot.

“Now, as I was just about to say. It is my painful duty to inform you all that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“ _What?”_ Harriet gasped.

Her outrage was clearly evident elsewhere. Fred and George looked as though they had been clubbed by a troll.

“This is due to an event which will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy—but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts we will have the honour of hosting an event which has not been held in over a century. None other than the Triwizard Tournament.”

“You’re JOKING!” Fred blurted out, loudly.

“I am _not_ joking, Mr Weasley,” Professor Dumbledore chuckled as the Great Hall burst out in laughter. “Though now that you mention it, I did just hear one the other day about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who walk into a bar—”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

“Er—right, perhaps another time. Anyway, as some of you I’m sure are not aware of what this entails, I will give a brief explanation. Those who do know what is involved in the tournament may let their minds wander freely.

“The Triwizard Tournament was first established approximately seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three main magical schools of the day, Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons. A champion was selected from each school, and had to compete in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament every five years, and it was considered a most excellent way to facilitate ties between the magical schools and young witches and wizards of varying nationalities. That is, until the death toll rose so high that the tournament was discontinued late in the last century.”

“Death toll?” Hermione whispered in alarm.

However, Harriet noted that she alone seemed to feel that anxiety. Everyone else seemed to be muttering excitedly with their friends. Even Harriet was excited to hear more.

“There have been several attempts over the last centuries to reinstate the Tournament, but with very little success. However, our Departments of Magical Games and Sports, and International Magical Cooperation, think that it is time for a fresh attempt. We have worked tirelessly over the summer to ensure that this time the five champions will not find themselves in any truly mortal peril.”

More murmuring broke out at this.

“Five champions?” a nearby Hufflepuff asked. “Thought there was only three?”

Professor Dumbledore’s mouth twitched again. “Yes, as a further measure at reinstating the Tournament, this year it is being opened up to two other schools: Mount Phoenix, and Four Nations.”

“Why is it still called the Triwizard then?” asked a Ravenclaw.

“Ah, a good question,” Professor Dumbledore said. “The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, prior to the tragic incident at the World Cup, felt that it was a traditional name for the tournament and should remain so. So much so, they made it a necessary condition of their participation in the tournament. And as such, the number of challenges has remained at three. The heads of the four other schools will be arriving with their selected contenders in October, and the selection of the champions will take place on Hallowe’en. An impartial judge will decide which candidates are worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, their school’s glory, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

“Oh I’m so in!” Fred hissed.

He was hardly alone. Many students were whispering amongst themselves, hungry looks on all their faces.

Professor Dumbledore spoke again. “Eager though I know all of you are to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the respective Ministries, have agreed to impose an age limit on contenders this time around. Only students who are of age—that is to say, seventeen years or older—will be allowed to put their names forward for consideration.”

A wave of barely contained outrage swept over the students at this. Fred and George in particular were looking furious.

“This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we may take. Thus it is highly unlikely that any students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts’ champion.”

Professor Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as they glanced in Fred and George’s direction.

“I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our guests while they are with us, as they will be remaining at Hogwarts for much of the rest of the year. And no doubt, all of you will give your full support to our school’s champion when he or she is selected. However, that is not to say that there will not be plenty of other opportunities for fun and frolic as the year wears on. While the inter-house Quidditch Cup has been called off, we have agreed to also perform a trial run of the new Muggle-Sports Initiative which Mister Van Der Lakk of Gryffindor put forward last year.”

Marcus’ jaw dropped in shock. Ronnie beamed and patted him on the back. There was a mixed reaction to this. Most students Harriet could see seemed intrigued at the very least, but more than a few (most notably the Slytherins) did not seem very enthused about this prospect.

“We have decided that as a trial run, we will go with a single sport for this year: the muggle sport of football. It will follow the Quidditch formula of being inter-house, and mixed-gender teams. Team sign-ups will begin tomorrow morning at breakfast. And now, I’m afraid it’s time we all turned in to get a good night’s sleep before we get down to business tomorrow. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

Professor Dumbledore sat down once more to speak with Professor Moody. The students all got to their feet and swarmed towards the doors leading to the Entrance Hall. Fred and George however hadn’t moved.

“They can’t do that,” George said mutinously. “We’re seventeen in April, why can’t we have a shot?”

“Awwww, my poor boy,” Erica said, her voice thick with irony as she hugged George’s arm and patted his hand with playful faux sympathy.

In spite of himself, George laughed and ruffled Erica’s hair. She laughed too and stuck her tongue out at him in protest, before trying to comb her hair back into place.

“Well they’re not stopping me from entering,” Fred said, not losing his focus. “The champions will get to do all sorts that we don’t get to do normally, and a thousand galleons prize money!”

“Yeah…” Ronnie said, wistfully. Kieran and Marcus rolled their eyes but smiled all the same.

“Oh come on,” Hermione said. “We’ll be the only ones left if we don’t get a move on.”

They all rose and hurried off after the rest of their house. Kieran was being particularly quiet as they went along.

“What’s up?” Harriet asked.

Kieran shrugged. “Nothing really, just… I’ve heard of Moody before. Everyone talks about what a great Auror he was. But I didn’t know that he was…well…”

Kieran trailed off. Harriet nodded knowing full well what Kieran was getting at. She could very easily see how, despite his rather horrible face and the crazy eye that shouldn’t be allowed, someone like Moody would be inspirational to Kieran.

“Well, you can fly a broomstick now,” Harriet said, smiling. “Suppose that means you can move on to stopping dark wizards.”

“And losing most your face,” Dean Thomas teased and patted Kieran on the back. In spite of himself, Kieran laughed too.


	12. The New Year

“Never underestimate just how far a single smile can go.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

It took a while for Harriet to fall asleep that night. Everyone was too excited talking about the tournament. The exception was Hermione who seemed to be against the idea of the tournament altogether.

“Oh relax, Hermione,” Fred said dismissively. “You heard Dumbledore. No one’s gonna get hurt.”

“If something can go wrong, it will,” Hermione said, flipping the page on her Ancient Runes textbook.

“You’re such a downer, Hermione,” Ronnie said. “You really think Dumbledore would put us all in harm’s way like that?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Well, okay, _on purpose_ I mean.”

Harriet laughed.

The following morning, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan still had not given up their ambition to cheat their way into becoming the Hogwarts champion. Ronnie meanwhile was going over their new timetables.

“Not bad,” she said. “Outside all morning. Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures. Still with the Slytherins, of course…”

“Oh Ronnie must you always go on about them?” Hermione asked. “One of your best friends is a Slytherin.”

“Dora doesn’t count,” Ronnie said dismissively.

“Double Divination this afternoon,” Harriet moaned, making room for Dora to join them.

“So wish McGonagall had let us drop that so we could just be in Muggle Studies instead,” Ronnie groaned.

“Well, to be fair,” Dora said “you two are still doing well in Trelawney’s class, right?”

“Didn’t do so well on crystal balls, but I suppose overall…” Harriet admitted, grudgingly.

“Well, why complain then?” Dora said. “I say use it. Super easy class you can just bluff your way through and still get high marks without actually doing much work? Sounds like a win-win to me.”

Harriet laughed and Ronnie smiled.

“Okay, you have a good point there,” Ronnie admitted.

“And we’ll have Professor Spring together tomorrow,” Hermione said excitedly.

At that moment, there was the fluttering of paper and everyone looked up to see that the post owls had arrived. They swirled around the ceiling in a fluffy, feathery cloud before swooping down on their owners.

Harriet smiled watching them, though she always felt a little pang of jealousy every time. She didn’t really know anyone outside of Hogwarts, so she very rarely received any post. Neville Longbottom, who was notoriously forgetful, received a package from his grandmother. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy had received his usual parcel of goodies from home.

Harriet looked down at her plate of food and sighed to herself. Just as she was about to stab her fork into her eggs there was a thunking noise on the table in front of her. She looked up and was quite taken aback to see an owl sitting on the table before her. Not just any owl, either. It was Daniel’s eagle-owl, Axl.

Axl hooted and lowered his head, pushing a package towards her with his beak. Harriet was still too surprised to move. Axl hooted again.

“Go on,” Dora said nudging Harriet’s elbow and bringing her to her senses.

Harriet slowly reached out for the package. Axl stepped back and helped himself to a sausage before swooping off, silently. Harriet untied the twine, unfolding the paper. The box itself was made of a nearly white wood, which looked familiar to Harriet. The top was inlaid with a dark wood like the cherry furniture of McIntyre Manor and had the Hogwarts crest emblazoned on it.

“Wow,” Scott said, impressed. “He made the whole thing of holly with a cherry inlay, that’s impressive, usually people do it the other way around.”

Harriet put a trembling hand on the box and tried to lift the lid. It wouldn’t open.

“There’s a letter underneath it,” Marcus pointed out.

Harriet lifted the box and picked up the envelope. She could feel the key inside it. She opened the envelope and tipped it, dropping the key into her hand. Then, she took out the letter.

“What does it say?” Ronnie asked, excitedly.

“Ronnie!” Hermione hissed.

Harriet blushed but read silently:

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_It occurred to Remus that you’ve probably never received a “good-luck” start-of-year package, so we decided it was time to fix that. Plus, Snuffles wanted to give you something for your birthday. Remus made the box, while Snuffles and I filled it with goodies. We think it will come in useful this year. Have a great first term and see you around town and during the Tournament (yeah, Remus and I knew about the tournament for a while now, but we thought the surprise would be more fun than us just telling you.)_

_Lots of love,_

_Daniel_

_Remus_

_Snuffles_

_P.S. Do not open the tray until midnight tonight._

 

Harriet’s eyes went wide. She read the signatures again. All three of them had clearly been written by different hands. She looked hard at that last signature. It was Sirius. She recognized his handwriting, how often had she reread the last letter he’d sent her on her ride home on the Hogwarts Express last summer? Did this mean that Daniel and Remus were meeting with Sirius despite his being under house-arrest? _If so, what are they playing at?_ Harriet thought, _they could get in so much trouble. Unless they’re allowed to talk to him, but if they are, why can’t I?_

“What does it say?” Ronnie pressed.

“It… It’s from Daniel and Remus,” Harriet said, pocketing the letter. She didn’t know if she was ready for them to know that, somehow, Sirius had something to do with this as well.

Without saying anymore, Harriet put the key into the lock and opened the box. She gasped at what she saw. It was a jewellery box.

Inside was a tray of compartments covered in soft, green felt. In one of the compartments was a pair of silver earrings, each in the shape of little silver snowy owls. In the main compartment was a necklace made of a thin, silver chain connected to two silver wings that were linked to a small golden ball.

“Oh, Harriet,” Hermione said softly, putting a hand over her heart as she watched. “It’s beautiful.”

“Remus made it…” Harriet said quietly.

Her cheeks felt very warm now. Dora was giving Harriet a sly smile.

“What?” Harriet asked.

Dora’s grin grew. “Well, you’ll have to get your ears pierced now, won’t you?”

Harriet blushed brighter. “Oh shut up.”

“Oh it’s not that bad, Harriet,” Hermione said, pulling back her own hair to reveal her own pierced ears. “Even I have them.”

Marcus snorted into his goblet. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry,” Marcus said. “It’s just the way you say that, like it’s always some big shock to everyone that you’re a girl or something.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but as she took a sip of her own goblet, Harriet distinctly noticed her give a little smile.

Soon, the bell rang to signal the start of lessons. Harriet and the rest of the Gryffindors made their way down to the Herbology greenhouses. Harriet was having a hard time focusing. She’d packed the box very carefully in her bag, as she hadn’t had time to run back to Gryffindor Tower to put it away, and so couldn’t help stealing glances at her bag all the way through class, worried something was going to happen to it.

Fortunately, all they were doing was extracting Bubotuber pus, which was an oddly satisfying yet disgusting activity which involved popping the Bubotubers’ swellings and collecting the thick, lime-green, petrol-smelling liquid that came out of them. According to Professor Sprout Bubotuber pus was helpful in the treatment of acne.

The bell rang and the Gryffindors headed off to Care of Magical Creatures. The sight wasn’t reassuring. Hagrid was smiling down at them all, warmly as ever, but around his feet were several wooden crates which were rattling around and emitting the occasional popping noise like a firecracker. Harriet discreetly set her bag just inside the open front door of Hagrid’s hut as they formed a circle around him.

“Mornin’!” Hagrid said in greeting, grinning down at them all. “Better wait fer the Slytherins, they won’t wanna miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!”

“Uh, come again?” Ronnie asked.

Hagrid beamed and pointed down into the crates. Everyone leaned over cautiously to look.

“Eurgh!” Lavender Brown shrieked and jumped back a couple paces.

While Harriet didn’t always get on as well with Lavender and her best friend, Parvati (particularly where it came to their vapid worship of Professor Trelawney) she had to admit that this time Lavender had a point. The Skrewts were hideous.

They looked like shell-less lobsters. Their skin was milky-white and looked slimy. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to where their legs protruded from their fleshy bodies, and Harriet couldn’t identify any heads. There looked to be a hundred of them per crate, and they were clambering over each other, bumping into the walls, and stank of rotting fish. Every now and then, a Skrewt would make a pop and _phut_ noise and a jet of sparks would spray out of one end, rocketing the Skrewt ahead a foot or so.

“Only just hatched,” Hagrid said, puffing up with pride. “So yeh’ll be able ter raise ‘em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”

“And why exactly would we _want_ to raise them?” asked a disdainful voice.

It was the Slytherins. Draco was still leading the group and was looking into the crates with disgust. His crowd of cronies were sniggering.

Hagrid stammered a bit, clearly fishing around for an explanation.

“I mean…” Draco said, giving one of his hands a wave of exasperation. “What do they _do_? What’s their purpose?”

Hagrid paused for a few more seconds, before he finally thought up an answer. “Tha’ll be next lesson, Malfoy. Just feedin’ ‘em today. I got a few things. Never ‘ad ‘em before, so not sure what they’ll go fer. Got ant eggs, frog livers, an’ a bit o’ grass snake. Just try a bit of each.”

Harriet and her friends all gave each other ever-suffering looks before they reluctantly put their hands into the slimy frog livers and dropped them into the crate. Harriet couldn’t really see the point to it. As far as she could tell, none of the Skrewts had mouths.

“ _Ouch!_ ” Dean Thomas yelled in pain. “It got me!”

Hagrid hurried over, anxiety on his face. Harriet rolled her eyes. As much as she loved Hagrid, she had thought he would have learned his lesson over Buckbeak.

“Its end exploded!” Dean said, glaring and showing Hagrid a fresh, shiny burn on his hand.

“Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off. Maybe best we all wear our dragon-hide gloves from here on,” Hagrid said.

“Eurgh,” Lavender said, jumping back from her box again. “What’s that pointy thing on that one?”

“Ah, some of ‘em have got stings,” Hagrid said knowledgably.

Lavender drew back from the box, giving Hagrid and exasperated look.

“I reckon they’re the males. The females I think are the ones that have the sucker things on their bellies. My guess is they’re fer suckin’ blood.”

Jackson Lee groaned nearby, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and clenching his eyes shut in frustration. Apparently, Jackson found Hagrid’s newest find just as ridiculous as the rest of them did.

“Well, I can certainly see why we’d want to keep them then,” Draco said, his voice rich with irony. “Who wouldn’t want pets that sting you, burn you, and suck your blood all at once?”

“Just because they’re not pretty, doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Hermione snapped. “Dragon blood is incredibly useful, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?”

Harriet, Ronnie, Kieran, and Marcus all gave Hagrid little grins. He blushed and gave them a furtive smile. Hagrid had actually owned a pet baby dragon for a short while during their first year. Hagrid’s affection for all creatures monstrous and deadly was a Hogwarts legend.

“Well… at least they’re not very big,” Ronnie said as they made their way back up to the school for lunch.

“Yeah, they aren’t now,” said little Rachel Kane. “Before long they’re gonna be able to eat Harriet and me in one bite.”

“Huh?” Harriet said.

“Well, we’re the shortest in the class,” Rachel pointed out.

Harriet looked around and realized that Rachel was right. Everyone with the exception of Rachel was noticeably taller than her now.

“Well it won’t matter,” Marcus said stretching. “It’ll be worth it if it turns out they cure sea sickness or something, right?”

Harriet and Rachel gave him dirty looks and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You know I only said that to shut Malfoy up. If you ask me, the best thing would probably be to ship them all back to wherever they came from.”

They sat at the Gryffindor table, Scott and Dora joining them. They all stared as Hermione began to shovel food into her mouth at a furious pace.

“Ummmm, if you don’t mind, Hermione, I’d rather not have you vomiting all over the table while I’m eating,” Dora said. “Maybe slow down a bit…?”

“Almost done,” Hermione said through a mouthful of sprouts. “Need to get to the library.”

“What?” Ronnie asked. “We don’t have any homework yet—” Ronnie narrowed her eyes. “You don’t still have that time-turner, do you?”

“No!” Hermione hissed, looking around and leaning over the table, whispering. “I never had it, remember?”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. Hermione wolfed down the rest of her lunch and sprang up from the table. “See you all at dinner!” she said and hurried off.

An hour and a half later, Harriet was sighing dismally in the hot Divination classroom. Professor Trelawney was as miserable as ever. The moment Harriet had entered the classroom, Professor Trelawney had swooped down on her. Most of what she said was her usual nonsense, though the last part of it had somehow nested in Harriet’s mind and wouldn’t go away. _I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass_.

Normally, Harriet would have paid it no mind. However, after Professor Trelawney’s real prediction last spring, Pettigrew’s escape, her nightmare, and the events at the World Cup, the words seemed to stick in her mind more than they normally would.

This term, they were studying the stars and planets. Harriet had little interest as worries kept sweeping over her mind. She kept eyeing her bag and the present inside. She was worrying that Hagrid was going to get in trouble again over the Skrewts. She was still worrying about what Professor Trelawney had said.

“ _Harriet_!” Ronnie hissed.

“Wha?”

Harriet looked around in surprise. Everyone in the room was looking at her. She sat up a little straighter. She must have started to nod off from the heat.

Professor Trelawney gave an indignant sniff. “I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn.”

“Uh, Saturn?” Harriet said.

“Yes, dear, Saturn!” Professor Trelawney said, her indignation growing. “I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth… your dark hair… your mean stature… tragic losses so young in life… I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in mid-winter?”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. “No. I was born on the 31st of July.”

Most of the class sniggered.

Harriet groaned in relief as class ended and they made their way to dinner. She was so ready for the day to be over. Unfortunately, life had one more curve to throw them.

As they joined the queue for dinner, the unpleasant and unwelcome voice of Pansy Parkinson cried out. “Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”

Harriet and her friends slowly turned. Pansy and Pixie were standing nearby, along with their lackey, Wendy Aarons and Blaise Zabini. Harriet noted that Wendy didn’t seem as amused as the other three.

“Your dad was in the paper, Weasley, did you know?” Pixie said, holding up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. She was speaking loud enough for everyone in the Entrance Hall to hear her. “Listen to this!”

 

**_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_ **

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end,_ writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. _Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup leading to the murder of a foreign dignitary, having to explain sentencing potentially innocent citizens to Azkaban without trial, letting a verified mass-murderer remain at large, and allowing the disappearance of one of its witches go un-investigated for months, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office._

Pansy shrieked with laughter. “ _Arnold Weasley_ ,” she laughed maliciously. “They couldn’t even get his name right?”

“That’s not his name?” Pixie asked. “Well, shows how important he is, anyway.”

Pixie smirked and read on:

_Arnold Weasley was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (“policemen”) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired when he could no longer tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer_ Daily Prophet _questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

 

“And look!” Pixie said spinning the paper around to show everyone. “There’s a picture! Weasley’s dear old mum and dad in front of their… er… house?”

“Yeah, I’m not seeing a house,” Zabini said tilting his head this-way and that.

“Mum could do with losing a bit of weight though,” Pansy said, thoughtfully. “Must be where Weasley gets her thunder-thighs from.”

Ronnie moved to take a step towards the group but Harriet and Marcus took hold of her arms, holding her back. Blaise sneered but suddenly, Cian Whelan, a Slytherin Muggle-born third year stepped out of the crowd.

“Oh yeah, three of you on one, that’s real good odds, isn’t it?” the shorter boy said glaring up at Zabini in particular.

“Watch yourself, little boy,” Zabini said, looking down at Cian as though the black-haired boy was something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe.

“Blaise,” came Draco Malfoy’s voice. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“What for?” Blaise asked, looking around as Draco came towards them, flanked as ever by Crabbe and Goyle.

“What’s it matter?” Draco said taking hold of Zabini’s arm and pulling him towards the stairs that lead down to the Slytherin common room.

“But we’re waiting for dinner,” Zabini protested.

“I’ve got better food down in the common room,” Draco snapped.

The Entrance Hall was very quiet again. Draco had let go of Zabini’s arm and turned to walk off. Apparently, he had expected Zabini to just follow him. Instead, Zabini turned a wicked grin on Cian who had turned his back, walking back into the crowd to re-join his friends when Zabini slowly drew his wand. At that moment, Draco looked around for Zabini and saw him. Harriet reached for her own wand to try and block Zabini but to her surprise, Draco was faster.

Harriet didn’t hear the spell Draco shouted over the cry that went up through the crowd. Harriet paused and loud bang rang through the Hall, which was followed by a bellowing roar.

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”

Everyone spun to look to the marble staircase. Mad-eye Moody was limping down the steps, his wand pointing right at a pure-white, pink-eyed ferret which was turning around in circles rapidly, looking around in apparent terror, exactly where Draco Malfoy had just been standing.

Moody’s wooden foot clopped even louder on the stone floor than it had in the Great Hall the previous night. No one was moving or making a sound as Moody approached. Moody turned to Zabini.

“Did he get you, laddie?”

“W-what?” Zabini asked. By the stunned look on his face, it had not yet registered to Zabini what had just happened.

“LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted.

“Wh-wh-what?” Zabini stammered.

“Not you—him!” Moody said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe who had just bent down to pick up the ferret.

Harriet noted that Moody’s big spinning eye was white, meaning it had rolled back into his own head. Harriet blinked as she realized this meant that not only did the eye spin seemingly of its own volition, but apparently it could see through the back of Moody’s head.

Moody turned and started to stump towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret. The ferret twittered and shot off towards the staircase down to the dungeons.

“I don’t think so!” Moody roared and his wand flashed again.

This time, the ferret flew ten feet straight up in the air and bounced back to the floor with painful sounding smack, before bouncing straight up in the air once more.

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back is turned,” Moody growled, making the ferret bounce higher and higher. “Stinking, cowardly thing to do.”

The ferret bounced more.

“Never—do—that—again!” Moody said, uttering each growled word every time the ferret hit the ground.

Harriet didn’t know what made her do it. She immediately took a step forward and shouted. “Stop it! You’ll kill him!”

“Professor Moody!” cried a shocked voice.

The combined shouts distracted Moody just enough that he stopped bouncing the ferret. It felt to the floor, curling up and quivering, clearly in pain.

Everyone looked up at the staircase where the second shout had come from. It was Professor McGonagall, her arms full of books.

“Ah, hello Professor McGonagall,” Moody said as though nothing out of sorts had happened at all.

“What… what were you doing?” Professor McGonagall asked, looking down at the ferret.

“Teaching,” Moody said casually.

“Teach—MOODY?! _Is that a student?!_ ” Professor McGonagall shrieked, dropping her books which cascaded down the stairs.

“Yep,” said Moody.

“No!” cried Professor McGonagall. She drew her own wand in a flash and hurrying down the stairs and with a loud _snap_ , Draco Malfoy reappeared where the ferret had been. His hair was all over his face, which was a bright, burning red. He winced as he tried to get to his feet.

“Draco!” said a worried voice.

From a side corridor, Kenley Tyler hurried over to Draco. Kenley was a fifth year Slytherin, and like Cian was also a Muggle-born. She had helped them during Harriet’s second year while trying to solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets before her own petrification by Slytherin’s basilisk.

“What is going on here?” Professor McGonagall demanded as she and Kenley kneeled at Draco’s side.

“Someone thought he’d be clever and jinx another student when his back was turned. I decided to teach him why he should never do it again.”

Professor McGonagall looked scandalized. “Moody! We never use transfiguration as a punishment, and we never use corporal punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that!”

“He might have mentioned it,” Moody said dismissively.

“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!”

“I’ll do that then,” Moody said, glaring at Draco, darkly.

Draco glared back at Moody. His eyes were watering and he was muttering darkly under his breath. Harriet could just discern the words “my father.”

“Oh yeah?” Moody said, limping closer. “Well, I know your father of old, boy… you tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of house’ll be Snape, will it?”

“Yes,” Draco said through gritted teeth.

“Another old friend,” Moody growled. “I’ve been looking forward to a nice private chat with old Snape. Come on, you.”

Moody took hold of Draco’s arm and began to pull him off towards the dungeons. Kenley watched after them, her hands over her mouth, rocking back and forth from foot to foot, anxiously. Professor McGonagall looked just as uneasy. She gathered her books back up with her wand and hurried off up the stairs again, turning in the direction of Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“He… he tried to jinx you,” Pansy said, sounding disbelieving.

“He did…?” Zabini asked, looking dumbstruck.

Crabbe and Goyle were staring off gormlessly in the direction Moody and Draco had left. The whole crowd seemed mixed in its opinion of the events as they finally moved into the Great Hall. By the sound of it, half the crowd thought Draco (who had a long history of bullying other students) had it coming. The other half was of the opposite opinion. Harriet was surprised to note that the latter opinion was far from confined to Draco’s fellow Slytherins. Uncomfortably, given the years of animosity between them, Harriet had to admit that she herself was in the latter camp.

“Okay, I missed something huge,” Dora said as she joined them. “What did I miss?”

“Something that under any other circumstances would have been the best moment of my life,” Ronnie said, poking her food awkwardly.

“…Meaning…?” Dora asked.

“Moody transfigured Malfoy into a ferret and bounced him on the floor a bunch of times,” Marcus said, sounding a bit hollow.

Dora whistled. “What brought that on?”

“Zabini was going to hex Cian and Malfoy tried to jinx him first,” Kieran answered.

“Jinx Cian?” Dora asked.

“No… Zabini,” Harriet said.

Dora’s eyes went almost as wide as Moody’s magical one. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Harriet replied.

“I…” Marcus said, trying to find the words. “Just…” he set his fork down. “Malfoy and I have hated each other since bloody day one…”

“But if that’s the case, why did Moody transfigure him?” Dora asked.

“I don’t know,” Kieran said reasonably. “He must not have seen what happened… he was all the way at the top of the stairs, wasn’t he? So… maybe it was just a mistake?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Harriet admitted, without much conviction.

“But… he could have really hurt him,” Hermione finally chimed in.

They ate in silence. Despite Hermione’s initial hurry to eat and get to the library that she’d had before the incident, she now ate slowly. However, she still went to the library after they’d finished. Harriet and Ronnie, meanwhile, had their extensive amounts of Divination homework to work on.

Slowly, the common room emptied as students drifted off to bed. Harriet, remembering her letter and present, stayed behind.

“Coming to bed?” Ronnie asked.

“Later,” Harriet said. “I… kind of want to be alone for a while.”

“Okay…” Ronnie said, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said quickly. “Just, yeah, thinking about stuff.”

“Okay,” Ronnie said again and headed off up the staircase to their dorm. Harriet sighed looking at the clock. She still had a half-hour until midnight.

She pulled the jewellery box out of her bag and set it on the table in front of her. She opened the lid and stared at the felt covered tray. She noted the little felt loop on it that she was sure lifted the tray up to reveal the compartment underneath that she was not to open until midnight.

Harriet lifted the box again and curiously tilted the box. There was a soft sliding and thunk sound as something slid into the side of the box.

“Okay, well it’s got some weight to it,” Harriet said, sliding the object within the other way. She set the box back down and sighed, crossing her arms on the table in front of her and resting her chin upon them, staring at it. She looked at the top of the lid and blinked, tilting her head. There was clearly a place for a mirror to be placed into the lid. Yet there was no mirror. That was odd, Harriet thought. She’d have to write to Daniel and ask.

The minutes seemed to tick by at the speed of a particularly lazy snail. Harriet’s eyes started getting heavy as midnight drew nigh.

“Harriet?”

Harriet jumped. She must have dozed off, as she could have sworn someone had said her name. Yet as she looked around the common room, she was completely alone.

She looked over at the clock and saw it was a minute past midnight. The realization brought Harriet back to her senses instantly and she turned her attention to the box at once. She fumbled for the loop and pulled up. The tray came loose and folded up like a lid itself. Hidden underneath the tray was a small rectangular mirror.

Harriet lifted the mirror out. By the looks of it, it was the missing mirror from the inside of the lid. Harriet pushed the felt tray back down and pushed the mirror gently into the spot in the box’s lid. Sure enough, it fit in perfectly.

“Wow,” Harriet smiled, looking at her reflection.

She smiled and picked up the earrings from their compartment. She brushed back her hair and held up the little owl earrings to each ear.

“Lovely.”

“ACK!”

Harriet cried out in shock, dropping the earrings and tumbling off her chair. Nervously, Harriet rose to her knees, peeking over the edge of the table. She was sure that the voice had come from her jewellery box. Her eyes went even wider as she saw the sight of Sirius’ face smiling at her from inside the mirror.

Sirius looked much healthier than he had the last time Harriet had seen him. His face looked more fleshed out. His hair looked much more natural and washed. His eyes didn’t seem quite as sunken anymore, either.

“Sirius?!” Harriet asked, scrambling up and sitting in her chair again.

“The one and only,” the Sirius in the mirror replied, chuckling. “Bit jumpy, are we?”

Harriet rolled her eyes, blushing. “Well sorry, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to pop out of my mirror,” she grumbled. “How are you doing this?”

Sirius laughed. “It’s a two-way mirror. A linked pair of mirrors you can use to communicate instantly over long distances. Sort of like if Muggles had videos attached to their telephones. I have one and now you have the other. Your father and I used to use them when we were in different detentions. And well, now you have his we can communicate whenever you need me, despite my being a bit on the locked-up side.”

Harriet couldn’t help but smile. “But, how did you get it to Daniel and Remus?” she asked. “How did you sign that letter?”

Sirius laughed again. “Oh you really want me to spoil the secret so soon?”

“Yes,” Harriet said without hesitation.

Sirius laughed louder. “And there’s your mother,” he said. “See, the Shrieking Shack is sufficiently sealed up to keep a werewolf (or similarly sized creature) inside, but lots of much smaller things can slip in and out quite easily without being noticed by guards who are a bit too overconfident in how well the Shack can keep me in.”

“Like owls?” Harriet asked.

“Exactly,” Sirius said, grinning. “Daniel and Remus sent me the letter about making something for your start of term. I told them about the mirror and where to find it in my family’s old house (poor devils, said they had to fight off three boggarts and a swarm of doxies before they found it). They smuggled my old mirror to me, and sent on your father’s old mirror to you.”

Harriet shook her head in disbelief but she couldn’t stop smiling. “You three are something else.”

“Oh I know, I know,” Sirius said. “So, aside from the obvious details with the World Cup and all, how was your summer?”

“It was okay,” Harriet said. “I spent most of it worrying about you.”

Sirius’ smile finally faltered. “Ah,” he muttered. “Yeah, sorry about that. But Albus said he figured my best chance, what with yours and Daniel’s testimony in particular, that turning myself in was the best chance. If I kept running, it’d just make me look more guilty.”

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. “I can see that. Testifying was so scary.”

“I bet, kiddo,” Sirius said. “But Daniel and Remus both said you did a great job, and they’re both very proud of you.”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm, and for some reason, she felt her eyes start to get misty.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Sirius asked. Evidently, he had noticed.

“I don’t know,” Harriet said. “Just so much has happened and I just haven’t had time to stop and think about any of it, just more and more keeps happening.”

“I know, kiddo, I know,” Sirius said, his voice calm and quiet. “But you’re strong, damn you’re strong. You’ll get through this. You’ve got your friends, and you’ve got Remus and Daniel, and now you’ve got me.”

Harriet managed another smile and nodded, wiping her eyes. She set her arm back down and winced, lifting it again and seeing one of her earrings.

“Oh, just a sec,” Harriet said, putting the earring back into its compartment before hunting around for the other one. She finally found it under the table and put it in with the other earring.

“All there?” Sirius asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” Harriet said, smiling brighter now.

Sirius was positively beaming. It was a back and forth chain reaction, the more Harriet smiled, the more Sirius seemed to smile, which in turn made Harriet smile more.

“So,” Sirius said, and grunted as if leaning back on a chair. “Tell me about your friends…”


	13. Springs and Curses

“It’s wonderful how different the world you know can look just by viewing it through another’s eyes.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet groaned. She’d been up talking to Sirius until three in the morning, catching him up, in blow by blow fashion, of her life until his escape.

“You okay?” Tori Hoffman asked as Harriet slid out of bed.

“Yeah, ‘m’fine,” Harriet said sleepily as she fumbled around for her glasses.

She put them on and sat on the edge of her bed. She promptly turned her new jewellery box to face her and opened it, smiling into the mirror. Sirius wasn’t there, but he’d said he would always have his mirror on him in case she ever needed him. She picked up her comb and set to work taming her hair.

“What had you up so late?” Hermione asked, putting down bowls of food and water for Crookshanks.

Harriet shrugged. “Just had to clear my head.”

She didn’t know why she wasn’t telling her friends about the mirror yet. Somehow she just felt that it was supposed to be something private, something secret shared only between her and her godfather.

“Well cheer up because you’re in for a blast,” Hermione said, beaming. “Muggle Studies this morning!”

“Ugh, that’s no fair,” AJ groaned. “Iff’n I’da known Professor Spring was gonna be so fun I’da signed up for that class too.”

“Well, even if the Professor is not so fun, that does not mean the class is not very important,” Basheera chimed in.

“Yeah, but a lame teacher can make it hard to take a really important class seriously, which can really hamper learning,” Parvati said.

“Heh, like Quirrell,” Harriet said.

“Or Lockhart,” Ronnie chimed in, giving Hermione a teasing grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, we had Professor Lupin last year to make up for it.”

“Wonder how Moody’s going to be,” Harriet mused, remembering the incident in the Entrance Hall the previous day.

“Well, we can be sure he’ll be strict,” Tori said.

“Yeah, that was pretty harsh yesterday, even if it was Malfoy,” Rachel agreed.

“Well, we won’t have him until Thursday,” Hermione said reasonably. “That should be some time to prepare.”

There were general murmurs of agreement. They finished getting dressed in silence before heading down to the common room. The boys were waiting and together they all went to breakfast.

As they ate, Dora nudged Harriet’s elbow and nodded to the staff table.

“Hm?” Harriet grunted through a mouthful of porridge.

“Check out Snape,” Dora said.

Everyone turned and followed Dora’s gaze. Professor Snape was no longer sitting in his usual chair. Now, he was sitting at the far end of the table. Every now and then, he would steal cold, yet anxious glances down the table towards Moody, who was sitting in the same spot he’d been sitting since he arrived. Moody, however, was paying Professor Snape no mind whatsoever as his eerie magical eye whizzed around observing the students and staff.

“Wow, must have had a hell of a row over Malfoy,” Marcus said, scratching his cheek in thought.

Harriet glanced over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy wasn’t there.

“You don’t suppose Malfoy was expelled, or suspended?” Scott asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Dora said. “That’d be an irony wouldn’t it…? All the horrible stuff he’s done and it’s the one thing he did right that gets him in trouble.”

“Tried to do right,” Marcus said.

“Better than not at all,” Hermione added.

“True…” Marcus said, sighing.

The bell rang. Harriet, Hermione, and Ronnie grabbed up their bags and headed off to Muggle Studies. Harriet felt her apprehension over Malfoy and Moody ebbing away. Excitement bubbled in her chest as they got closer to Muggle Studies. Professor Spring had seemed very fun when she escorted Harriet and her friends during their first trip to Hogsmeade. It helped that Hermione always spoke glowingly of Professor Spring’s knowledge.

They waited outside Professor Spring’s class. Hermione kept checking her watch impatiently. Harriet was surprised to note that this class, unlike most, was not just a one or two house class. There were students from all four houses waiting outside.

Jeremy Owen (Harriet flushed slightly when Jeremy greeted her), Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbot, and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff were there. From Ravenclaw Harriet noted Terry Boot, plus three refugee students, Sasha Brewer, Nicole Green, and Kelly Werner. There were only two Slytherins present, Damien Mallory and Thomas Wright.

“Well, it’s not a very popular class,” Hermione whispered in Harriet’s ear. “Not yet, anyway. Apparently the number of third years who signed up this year set a record.”

The bell rang. Professor Spring stepped out, giving everyone a glowing smile. “Mornin’, all!” she said and stepped aside. “C’mon in!”

“Good morning, Professor Spring!” Hermione said and hurried into the room first.

Ronnie rolled her eyes at Harriet and they followed Hermione inside with the rest of the class. Harriet felt her eyes widen as they took in the sight of the room. It was a complete mess.

The walls were plastered from floor to ceiling with technical diagrams of everything from children’s toys to watches to what looked like a nuclear reactor. All of the shelves were littered with muggle artefacts: car engine components, a dismantled bicycle, several telephones of varying eras, and an old diving helmet.

Hermione quickly went to the front of the class. Harriet and Ronnie followed. They sat and Harriet looked at Professor Spring’s blackboard. Her heart sank. Beside her, Ronnie’s jaw fell open.

The word “Springs!” was written exuberantly across the top. Underneath were a series of drawings of springs and several complex looking equations. Harriet and Ronnie exchanged a look. Harriet could tell that Ronnie, like her, was starting to wonder if she’d made a mistake.

“Right!” Professor Spring said, moving behind her desk and smiling around at them all.

Kelly Werner gasped and Harriet noticed it too. On closer inspection, Professor Spring was covered in scratches and there was a dirt smudge on her forehead. There was also a leaf and bits of tree-bark in her short, spunky blonde hair, and her robes were covered in mud.

“Professor Spring!” Nicole Green exclaimed. “What happened?”

“What?” Professor Spring asked, looking at them all with confusion before looking down to take in her appearance and laughing. “Oh! This! Oh it’s nothin’. It was that mad car running about the Forbidden Forest. I _almost_ had it this time.”

Harriet and Ronnie gave each other another uncomfortable look that quickly turned into sheepish smiles.

“Cool!” Terry Boot said.

“Why are you after it?” Hannah Abbot asked. She didn’t sound sure whether she should be impressed or shocked.

“Well it’s int’restin’, isn’t it?” Professor Spring said. “Goin’ feral like that. Never seen the like before. Anyway, trust yeh all had good summers?”

Everyone nodded.

“Excellent!” Professor Spring said. “Now, we ended last term discussin’ pulleys and levers and how Muggles use them to lift heavy objects without magic. This term, we’re moving on to, well, if you don’t mind me bein’ a bit immodest, my favourite Muggle subject: Springs.”

Professor Spring smiled around at the class. “So, who can tell me what a spring is?”

True to form, Hermione’s hand shot in the air.

Professor Spring laughed. “Ah, of course Granger, but I hope yeh don’t mind maybe someone else answerin’? No one else’ll learn if they just ride in your wake. Promise, I had little doubt you already had some idea.”

Hermione flushed a little but looked pleased with herself all the same.

“Potter,” Professor Spring said, making Harriet jump. “How about you?”

“Uh…” Harriet felt her face draining of colour and her mind went blank. She’d grown up in a muggle house, why couldn’t she think of what a spring was? Suddenly, her mind jumped to the broomstick kickstand that Charlie had made for Kieran. That had a little spring on it.

“Uh, it’s one of those little coiled metal things,” Harriet said.

Professor Spring smiled. “Aye, yeah that’s the most common form of them and what most people think when they hear the term ‘spring.’ Very good, five points to Gryffindor.”

Harriet felt the colour return to her cheeks rapidly.

“Yes, that is the most common form of a spring, but what most people don’t know is that lots of things are considered springs,” Professor Spring went on and she stepped up to the blackboard.

There was hurried rustling around the room as everyone got out quills and ink to take notes; except for Hermione who already had hers out.

“Now, the spring that Potter described is what’s known as a coil, or helical spring. The most common material they’re made from is steel. In a more general sense, however, springs are any object that stores mechanical energy.”

Everyone wrote feverishly. Harriet felt her mind going a bit blank. She didn’t know what exactly she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

“The first use of the coil spring came about in the early fifteenth century,” Professor Spring continued. “But humans have been using them since almost the dawn of civilisation. Can anyone else think of a simpler spring?”

Hermione’s hand shot in the air, but so did Jeremy’s.

“Let’s give Owen a try this time,” Professor Spring said, smiling at Hermione. “I’ve got a better question later that you can tackle.”

Hermione put her hand down again though she still looked just as eager.

“Well, would a bow—like a bow and arrow—count?” Jeremy asked.

Professor Spring beamed. “Very good, Owen! Yes, five points to Hufflepuff. Yes, a bow is a form of very rudimentary spring.”

Jeremy smiled looking pleased with himself.

“The term for the type of spring a bow is, is a leaf spring,” Professor Spring went on. “Now, don’t want to overload you all on your very first day, because it is a big subject, and a couple of us are new to the class.”

Harriet felt some of her own tension ease off.

“So instead we’re going to talk about the many objects that springs are used in. To help you study up, next lesson we’ll be talking about the different types of springs in more detail. The lesson after that, we’ll get into the real meat of the matter and discuss the physics behind springs.”

“Physics?” Terry Boot asked, sounding quite taken aback.

Looking around, Harriet noted most of the faces had gone a little pale.

“Oh yes, Boot,” Professor Spring said. “No good just learning the uses of Muggle artefacts without learning the theory behind them. Like we talked about first term of last year, just learning about how Muggles do things won’t help you really appreciate why they do.”

Professor Spring surveyed the room impressively.

“It’s easy enough for all of us to look down on Muggles and how they can’t do things without magic but that diminishes their genius incredibly. Muggles noted that a stick, when bent, sprang back when released. Eventually, they figured out that by attaching a string to each end of such a stick, it could launch a projectile.

“With that, they could hunt larger game more safely from further away. They were better able to defend themselves against predators and other tribes. Much later, they figured out how to use springs to power watches and clocks. Those comfortable beds you sleep in every night? Springs. The smooth ride of the Hogwarts Express? Springs. Trampolines? Latches in doors and locks? All springs.”

The class was very quiet as Professor Spring finally stopped talking. She hadn’t been reprimanding them. Instead, her face was bright with passion.

Slowly, Ernie Macmillan raised a hand.

“Yes, Macmillan?” Professor Spring said.

“So, we really have two weeks until we have to learn that physics bit?”

Professor Spring laughed.

## * * * *

“You know why Snape’s been in such a foul mood,” Ronnie said the night before their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the new term.

“Yeah, Moody,” Harriet replied.

They were sitting in the common room reading for Professor Spring’s class. Neville had melted his sixth cauldron in Potions earlier in the day. Professor Snape, who was being even nastier than ever before, had given Neville a detention. Neville had just returned, twitching a little. Professor Snape had made him disembowel a barrelful of horned toads.

At present, Hermione and Basheera were sitting quietly with Neville in a corner. Basheera was patting Neville’s shoulder calmingly while Hermione was teaching Neville a scouring spell to remove the toad guts from his fingernails. Harriet wondered, a bit apprehensively, if she should be worried about Professor Moody. The thought was somewhat distracting, and she shook her head refocusing on springs for the time being. Finally, Thursday and their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class arrived. The interest amongst the students was palpable. While many were still leery of Moody after the incident in the Entrance Hall, the stories that the fourth years had been regaled with from other students about Moody’s expertise had made even Harriet excited to see just what Moody had to offer.

It wasn’t just the testimonials either. Much of what had Harriet excited was just the knowledge that Moody had once been an Auror. Harriet had taken a keen on the subject of Aurors ever since Remus had told her last year that she would make a good Auror herself. There was what Charlie had said the morning they’d left for Hogwarts, how Moody and Professor Howe had once been good friends while they worked at the Ministry. And lastly, there was the knowledge that Daniel had once been Moody’s protégé at the Ministry of Magic.

And yet, in spite of all of the excitement, and not even because of what had happened in the Entrance Hall between Moody and Draco on their first day back, something kept nagging at the back of Harriet’s mind. What it was did not occur to Harriet until they arrived at the door.

_Defence Against the Dark Arts_

_Professor Moody_

 

_It should still be Professor_ Lupin, Harriet thought; a tiny wave of resentment washing across her mind.

The bell had just rung as Hermione came hurrying up to them.

“Been in the—”

“—library,” everyone finished for her at once.

Dean looked into the room. “He’s not in, let’s get seats,” he said excitedly.

The class filed in and took seats. Everyone took out their books, _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , and waited. The room was unusually quiet, but Harriet could feel the excitement in the air.

Barely a minute later, the class turned towards the door. They could all hear the clunking of Moody’s clawed wooden foot coming down the corridor, growing steadily closer. The door opened and Moody stumped in, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Harriet’s eyes moved from his ever moving blue eye, to the clawed foot just visible under his robes.

“You can put those away,” Moody growled as he passed them all one his way to his desk. He grunted as he sat. “Those books. You won’t need them.”

There was excited shuffling as everyone hurried to put their books away. No books meant practical lessons, and practical lessons almost always spelled fun.

Moody took out the list of students, brushed his long, grizzled hair out of his face and began reading off the names. Harriet noted that his normal eye read from the list, while the magical one swivelled about, taking in each student as they answered.

“Right then,” Moody said putting away the register after roll call was done. “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures.”

The mention of Remus, and Professor Moody’s seemingly positive appraisal of his lessons went a long ways towards warming Harriet to Professor Moody at once.

“You’ve covered Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and Werewolves, is that right?”

There was a general murmur of assent.

“Excellent. However, you’re all behind— _very_ behind—on dealing with curses,” Professor Moody said, curtly. “Though from what Dumbledore tells me, that’s no fault of your own. So, that’s why I’m here. To bring you all up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach all of you how to deal with—”

“You mean you’re not staying?” Ronnie asked abruptly.

Professor Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ronnie. Ronnie swallowed and seemed to shrink a little. However, after a moment, Professor Moody actually smiled. It made his face even more twisted looking than ever, but as with Professor Stratton the year before, Harriet found it reassuring to note that he did in fact smile. A sentiment shared by Ronnie who slowly smiled back.

“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s daughter then?” Professor Moody said. “Already had your brothers. And your little sister too, yesterday, good head on her shoulders, that one. Your father helped me out of a tight spot a couple days ago… yes, I’m only staying the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore. I’m retired you know, and rather liked it.”

He gave a sharp, scratchy laugh before clapping his gnarled hands together.

“So—let’s get straight to it then. Curses. They come in a great many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic and the school governors, you’re not supposed to know what illegal Dark curses look like until your sixth year. They don’t think you’ll be old enough to cope with them yet. But Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your talents than they do, and I say the sooner you know what you’ll be facing, the better.”

Professor Moody grunted getting to his feet and leaning on the desk, looking around at them all with a narrowed normal eye. “Now, some students in other classes expressed their opinion that learning these aren’t necessary yet. Well, anyone who heard or saw what happened at the World Cup this summer knows otherwise.”

Harriet grimaced and everyone shifted a little in their seats, uncomfortably. Harriet glanced at Marcus. His jaw was set and he was looking at Professor Moody though not as though he really saw him. Hermione set a hand gently on his arm and he jumped but seemed to relax.

“So, even in today’s _peace_ , you can see that Dark forces are still everywhere. How can you defend yourself against a curse you’ve never seen? How can you be prepared for it? A Dark witch or wizard isn’t going to tell you politely what they’re about to do before doing it. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away when I’m talking, Miss Brown.”

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the table. Everyone stared at Professor Moody in disbelief. Had he noticed them talking quietly, or could his eye see through not just his head, but solid wood as well?

“So, do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law? As a hint, there are three. They’re known as the Unforgivable Curses.”

Several hands rose around them. Hermione’s hand was no surprise, but Harriet noted with surprise that both Ronnie and Neville put their hands up. Professor Moody pointed at Ronnie first, though his magical eye remained fixed on Lavender and Parvati.

“Well,” Ronnie said. “I remember my dad talking about one called the Imperius Curse?”

“Ah, yes,” Professor Moody said, nodding. “Your father _would_ know all about that one. Gave the Ministry quite a lot of trouble back in the day.”

Professor Moody opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a jar. Inside were three large, black spiders. Harriet heard Ronnie give a quiet whimper. Ronnie’s greatest fear was spiders.

Professor Moody scooped out one of the spiders and held it up so the whole class could see. The spider attempted to scuttle off Professor Moody’s hand but his wand was quicker.

“ _Imperio!_ ” Professor Moody said, almost lazily.

The spider froze for a moment, then it sprang into the air. Harriet could just see a thin, gossamer thread of silk connected to Professor Moody’s hand. The spider hung from it, swinging back and forth like an acrobat only inches above Professor Moody’s desk. It then performed a backflip, broke the strand and landed on the desk. It sprang up at once, its spindly legs held straight out, cartwheeling in a circle around the desktop. Then it stopped and hopped up on its back two legs and began tap-dancing.

Most of the class was laughing at this point, with the exception of Ronnie who was still watching the spider with horror. Professor Moody wasn’t laughing either.

“Think it’s funny, do you?” Professor Moody snarled and the class fell silent at once. “You’d like it, if I did it to you?”

No one moved or made a sound as Professor Moody surveyed them all with both eyes.

“Control,” he growled and the spider rolled itself into a ball, rolling around the desk. “Total control. I could make it jump out the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of you throats.”

Ronnie whimpered louder.

“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Kept the Ministry in knots, it did, trying to find out who was being controlled by it or not.

“Fortunately for you lot, unlike the other two Unforgivable Curses, the Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how. However, it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. The best defence is not being hit by it at all. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

Everyone jumped as Professor Moody barked the last two words. He scooped up the spider and returned it to the jar.

“Anyone else know another Unforgivable Curse?”

Hermione’s hand punched the air once more, but once again, Neville raised his hand as well.

“Yes?” Professor Moody asked, turning to Neville.

“The… the Cruciatus Curse,” Neville answered. His voice was just loud enough to be heard.

Professor Moody gave Neville a searching look before his magical eye swung down to look at the register once more. “You’re Longbottom, right?”

Neville only nodded. Professor Moody reached into the jar once more and pulled out another spider. He set it on the desktop and drew his wand again.

“The Cruciatus Curse…” Professor Moody said studying the spider. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea.”

Professor Moody pointed his wand at the spider. “ _Engorgio_.”

The spider grew at once, growing larger than a tarantula. Ronnie actually slid her chair back from the desk now. Tori reached forward from her seat behind Ronnie to put a comforting hand on Ronnie’s shoulder.

Professor Moody looked around the room once more, making sure everyone was paying attention before he pointed his wand at the spider yet again.

“ _Crucio_!”

The spider began twitching immediately. It curled up its legs and rolled on its back. Its legs and abdomen were flailing now, rocking back and forth. It didn’t make a sound, beyond the skittering of its legs hitting the desktop, but if it could have, Harriet was sure if it could, it would be screaming.

“Stop!”

“Stop it!”

Two people had called out at once. One was Hermione, and the other was Basheera. Harriet looked around at them both. Neither Hermione nor Basheera were looking at the spider. Instead, both were looking at Neville. Neville was gripping the edges of his desk, his knuckles white. His eyes were as wide as they’d go as he watched the spider, full of horror.

Professor Moody finally relented. The spider stopped writhing but its legs continued to twitch intermittently.

“ _Reducio_ ,” Professor Moody said and the spider shrank back to normal size before he replaced it in the jar.

“Pain,” he continued. “You don’t need thumbscrews to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus curse. That one was real popular once too. Fear of it was so rampant that often neither it nor the Imperius Curse were necessary to bend people to your will, simply the threat of it was often enough to coerce people into carrying out your wishes.

“Right then, anyone know the last one?”

No one moved or spoke. Everyone was looking at the jar with a sense of foreboding. Finally, hesitantly, Hermione raised her hand again.

“Yes?” Professor Moody asked.

“ _Avada Kedavra_ ,” Hermione answered. She was even quieter than Neville had been.

“Ah yes,” Professor Moody said. “The last, and worst. _Avada Kedavra_ … the Killing Curse.”

Professor Moody reached in for the last spider. It scuttled away from his hand as fast as it could, but with nowhere to go Professor Moody finally caught it and set it on the desktop. The spider spun and shot straight away from Professor Moody, directly at Ronnie. Professor Moody’s wand was quicker.

“ _Avada Kedavra!”_ he roared.

The room was lit at once by bright green light. A horrible, ominous, and all too familiar rushing sound filled Harriet’s ears. The spider collapsed and skidded to a halt, tumbling a few times before rolling onto its back, its legs curled up, unmistakably dead. Ronnie screamed as the spider skidded towards her. Marcus had also cried out and actually fallen out of his chair.

Professor Moody stumped around his desk and swept the spider off his desk and into the bin.

“Not nice, not pleasant,” he said solemnly, wincing as he leaned back on his desk. “And there’s no counter-curse. There’s no blocking it. Only one person that anyone knows of has ever survived it.”

Both of Professor Moody’s eyes moved to Harriet. Harriet knew what he was going to say. He was far from the first person to have ever told her that fact.

“And she’s sitting right in front of me.”

Harriet could feel every eye in the room on her. She was staring at the blackboard behind Professor Moody though she didn’t really see it. Instead, her mind was going back to almost every nightmare she had ever had in her life. She was revisiting the clearing in the forest where she’d heard that horrible rushing sound and seen the blinding green flash.

She was starting to put together other images of her past in her mind as well from this. That was the last thing her parents had seen or heard. That roar and green flash before the end. Before their bodies crumpled, just like the spider.

“The Killing Curse needs a powerful bit of magic behind it. All the Unforgivable Curses do. You call all get your wands out right now, point them at me and shout “Avada Kedavra” and I wouldn’t even get a nose-bleed. You have to mean them. But that’s no matter, I’m not here to teach you how to perform them.”

Harriet was only half listening to Professor Moody. Her attention had drifted to Marcus who had retaken his seat and was wearing an expression much like hers, of forced determination, though his face and hands were both very white.

“Now, performing any of the Unforgivable Curses on a fellow human being will earn the performer a life sentence in Azkaban. That’s what you’re up against when dealing with Dark wizards. That’s what I’m here to teach you how to fight. You all need arming and preparing. But neither of those will help unless you practice constant, never ceasing vigilance. Now, get your quills and parchment out and take this down.”

The rest of the class was spent taking notes. They were all silent, except for the scratching of quills and the shifting of parchment, until the bell rang. Once outside in the hallway, the group all burst into speech.

Harriet grimaced as she listened. By the sound of it, most of the class had found the lesson entertaining, as though Professor Moody had put on a show for them. Harriet had to admit that she found the class informative, but it certainly had not been fun. Hermione and Marcus appeared to feel the same way.

“What was he on about… why did he have to actually kill something to show us?” Marcus was muttering.

“It was just a spider,” Ronnie said.

“And well… it was informative,” Kieran said. “And he had a point, how are—”

“Neville?” Hermione asked.

They came to a halt and followed Hermione’s gaze down a side-corridor. Neville was sitting on a bench, Basheera and Tori sitting with him. Neville was still wide-eyed, staring blankly. They made their way over to the three, concern on everyone’s face.

“Neville, are you okay?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, hello,” Neville said. His voice was much higher than normal. “Interesting lesson. When’s dinner?”

Basheera and Tori grimaced up at them.

“He’s… I don’t know,” Basheera said sounding lost.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Neville said. “Fascinating dinner. When’s the lesson?”

There was a tell-tale clunking noise behind them and they all turned to see Professor Moody making his way towards them. His expression was difficult to read from all the scarring but when he spoke his voice was much softer and gentler than Harriet had heard before.

“It’s all right, sonny,” Professor Moody said to Neville. “I know it seems harsh… I know it’s not pleasant… but you’ve all got to know… no point pretending. Now, Longbottom, how about you come up to my office? We can have some tea and I have some books that might interest you.”

Neville looked around at everyone with a slightly pleading look. However, no one spoke. What was there to say? Neville slowly rose and Professor Moody put a grizzled hand on his shoulder, guiding him off down the corridor.

Marcus shivered. “Don’t blame him… not sure how keen I’d be on being alone with Moody right now…”

“Yeah…” Harriet admitted.

“It was light being back there in the forest,” Marcus admitted. “Seeing Karkaroff dying all over again…”

Basheera’s eyes widened. “You saw that happen?”

“Yeah,” Marcus admitted. “Tried to warn him but I wasn’t fast enough…”

“Was it really him?” Tori asked, giving a little shiver herself. “Kinney…?”

Harriet could see the fear in Tori’s eyes. She thought back on the previous year, recalling their first boggart lesson with Professor Lupin. Tori’s boggart had taken the form of Kinney.

“Yeah,” Harriet said, solemnly.

Tori rubbed her arms. “Can’t believe no one’s caught him yet… How can someone be so…”

Basheera put an arm around Tori’s shoulder now.

“Well, I mean… that’s just it though,” Kieran said. “With Professor Moody and that lesson. People like Kinney are out there, and they use those curses on people. We have to be ready for them.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Harriet admitted, though she still couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of foreboding anyway.

## * * * *

The common room was uncommonly quiet that night. The fourth years were all still rather subdued after Professor Moody’s class. Harriet was sitting with Ronnie, Marcus, and Kieran. Hermione had gone to the library once more. Kieran was working on some of his basic healing homework while Marcus was enjoying himself helping Harriet and Ronnie come up with ever more gruesome predictions for their Divination homework.

Harriet stretched and looked around the room. There was quiet conversation going on all around and other students were all starting to head to bed. Neville was sitting by the fireplace with Basheera, Tori and Rachel. They were all leaning over a book with interest. Harriet craned her neck until she could just make out the title: _Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties_.

“He said Moody gave it to him,” Kieran said, following Harriet’s gaze.

“Really?” Ronnie asked.

“Yeah, said Professor Sprout told him he was really good at Herbology,” Marcus said. He sounded at once disbelieving, and yet approving.

Harriet had to admit that she felt the same way. Especially as she saw the look on Neville’s face of distinct pride and excitement as he poured over the book. Hardly anyone ever told Neville he was good at anything. So for Professor Moody, who was so intimidating and so legendary, to have told Neville so was a touching gesture to Harriet, even if it made her even more confused about just what she thought of Professor Moody.

Harriet turned her attention elsewhere. She spotted Fred and George sitting in a corner by themselves. This confused Harriet slightly. She expected Lee Jordan and Erica to be sitting with them at least. The two were crouched over a piece of parchment, quills out and pondering it. She didn’t think it was homework, and she doubted it was _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_ , because if it was they wouldn’t be looking so grim, and they would have let Lee and Erica in on it for sure. Her only other guess was they were trying to figure out how to enter the tournament, but even that was something she was sure they’d let Lee Jordan in on.

As she watched, George scratched something out with his quill. “No—we can’t say that, that’ll sound like we’re accusing him. We gotta be careful…”

Fred was about to speak when George looked over and saw Harriet watching them. Harriet simply smiled at them and looked back to her homework. She didn’t want them to think she was listening in, though she couldn’t help but tilt her head more to try and do just that.

“Yeah, you’re right George… gah, this is bloody difficult… especially if he _did_ stiff us.”

“Yeah, I just… I can’t believe it… someone like—”

“Finished!”

Harriet jumped looking around. Hermione had returned and was beaming around at everyone. She was holding a cardboard box that was rattling as she shifted it in her arms to set it on the desk.

“What’s that?” Ronnie asked looking at the box with interest.

“My big project,” Hermione said excitedly.

She took off the box’s lid and slid it towards everyone else. Harriet leaned over and looked inside. The box was full of pin on badges, all made of many different colours, but printed on each badge was the letters: S.P.E.W.

“Spew?” Harriet asked, picking up and inspecting one of the badges.

“Not _spew_ ,” Hermione said irritably. “It’s S—P—E—W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t say _spew_ ,” Ronnie taunted.

“S—P—E—W!” Hermione snapped.

Kieran meanwhile had pulled over a sheaf of parchment which Hermione had also set down and read out loud.

“ _Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Manifesto: Stop the outrageous abuse of our fellow magical creatures and campaign for a change in their legal status._ ”

Marcus whistled. “Well, not biting off more than you can chew at all.”

Hermione twisted her lips as though biting back more retorts.

“Well, every movement’s got to start somewhere, right?” said a voice nearby.

It was Erica who was getting up out of a chair by the fireplace where she’d been reading. She walked over looking on with interest.

“What you got here, Hermione?”

Hermione smiled to see Erica’s interest. “It’s a new club I’m starting, to help raise awareness about elf enslavement and how horrible it is.”

“But it’s not all horrible,” Ronnie said. “I mean, look at Dora and her family’s house elves.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Ronnie,” Hermione said in a dignified way.

“Well, I think it’s cool,” Erica said. “If you do it right it could really go somewhere. I never understood having house elves anyway. There are spells that can enchant brooms to sweep on their own, dusters dust on their own, and everything. Having a house elf just seems like something rich people do to show off.”

“Quite right,” Hermione said, beaming. “Our short term aims are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long term aims include changing the law about non-wand-use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

Everyone stared at her.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“Um… isn’t that a bit, well… overly ambitious?” Marcus asked, sounding incredulous. “Maybe start just like… raising awareness of their mistreatment?”

“And… what do you mean ‘our’?” Ronnie asked.

“Well, I was figuring you could be treasurer, Ronnie,” Hermione said. “And Marcus, you can be our secretary.”

“What about me?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Kieran asked.

“Well, Kieran, I was thinking you could handle membership, keep the roster of who’s in the club. Harriet, well, I was thinking you could be public relations.”

“Public relations?” Harriet asked, blinking.

“Well, people know you. If they knew you were in the group that would go a long way towards raising public awareness.”

“Soooooo you’re just preying on her fame?” Marcus taunted a little.

Hermione flushed. “No! I, well, not like that—”

Marcus laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said.

Hermione kept blushing looking around. “So… you’re all going to help?”

Harriet and the rest all gave each other looks. Harriet felt a little whiplashed by it all and Ronnie still looked sceptical, but they all seemed resigned to the inevitable. And after remembering last year how Hermione had been so alone with all her work, Harriet supposed she couldn’t turn her back now.

“Yeah, we’re in,” Harriet said.

Hermione beamed.


	14. The Arrival

“Old as I am, I often look back on my childhood and revel in amusement over the mistakes I made. The things I could have done or said better. It is all one really can do in the end. Remind yourself that once upon a time you were young and did not know any better and be glad those times happened, because if they had not, you still would not know any better.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The next few weeks passed with little incident. Hermione kept everyone busy with working on S.P.E.W, although Ronnie and Marcus were fortunate enough to miss the bulk of having to deal with Hermione’s enthusiasm. They had started work on organizing the football teams. It had been decided that the teams would be open to both boys and girls, as with Quidditch.

Hermione meanwhile had wasted little time in throwing herself into S.P.E.W. full-time. She would corner anyone and everyone to join, to the extent that many people started buying the badges from her just to get her to leave them alone. Harriet was fairly sure that this was not the “right way” that Erica had meant, but there didn’t seem to be any talking Hermione out of it.

The only real issue for Harriet was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Professor Moody announced during their third week of classes that he was going to be putting each of them under the Imperius Curse in order to demonstrate the effects of being under the curse, and to figure out who could fight the curse off.

“But—but you said it’s illegal, Professor,” Hermione said as Professor Moody cleared a space in the middle of the room with his wand.

She sounded deeply uneasy. Harriet felt much the same. Judging by the looks on the faces of everyone else, she and Hermione were hardly alone.

“You said that to use it on another human being—”

“Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like,” Professor Moody replied, fixing Hermione with the unblinking stare of his magical eye. “And the Imperius Curse is the one curse of the three that can be used on another human without immediate harm, yet is the most pervasive of the curses and the one you’re the most likely to have to deal with. If you’d rather learn the hard way—when someone’s putting it on you so they can control you completely—fine by me. You’re excused for the day. Off you go.” Professor Moody pointed one of his gnarled hands at the door.

“Well she asked a legitimate question,” Marcus said coming to Hermione’s defence. “It is illegal.”

Professor Moody stumped over towards Marcus. Marcus swallowed and slid down a little in his chair as Professor Moody loomed over him.

“Van Der Lakk… you’re the one who witnessed the murder of that scum, Karkaroff, right?”

Marcus swallowed and slowly nodded.

“You know how I lost my leg, boy?”

Marcus slowly shook his head.

“Lost to Death Eaters in the last war. You think I gouged out my own eye to put this one in as a fashion statement? You know why I only drink from my own hip-flask? I’ve seen the horrors of the Dark Arts, boy. And so have you. Fortunately for you, it was used on someone else instead.”

Marcus nodded slowly. Professor Moody turned to address the class again. Hermione grimaced while the rest of the class was looking at Professor Moody with a mixture of anger, awe, and apprehension. Harriet wasn’t sure how she felt. She supposed deep down that Professor Moody had a point, but she didn’t think that excused his being so rude about it. Even if they didn’t seem to like each other, that was something she would have expected Professor Snape to do, rather than someone who had been Daniel’s mentor at the Auror office. Harriet made a mental note to write to Daniel about him as soon as class was over.

One by one, Professor Moody called them forward. Harriet watched with a mixture of awe and shock at what unfolded. Dean Thomas hopped around the room like a kangaroo while singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville did some spectacular gymnastics that he certainly couldn’t have done on his own. AJ spun around the room on her tip-toes like a ballerina.

Finally, it was Harriet’s turn. Harriet slowly stepped into the middle of the cleared room. Professor Moody aimed his wand at her and said, “ _Imperio_.”

Bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss swept over Harriet’s mind. She felt as though she was floating on a cloud, not a single care in the entire world. She could see everyone looking at her but it didn’t matter.

_Jump onto the desk._

Harriet heard Professor Moody’s voice echoing around in her head.

_Jump onto the desk… jump onto the desk…_

_Why?_

There was another voice in Harriet’s head now. It sounded familiar.

_Stupid idea, really._

_Jump onto the desk._

_No, I don’t think I will, thanks._

_Jump onto the desk._

_No, I don’t really want to._

_Jump! NOW!_

“Ouch!”

Harriet gave an exclamation of pain. She had tried to jump and yet tried to stop herself from jumping at the same time. Instead of jumping onto the desk, she felt onto her knees on the hard stone floor, scraping them painfully.

“Now _that’s_ more like it!” Professor Moody growled and he sounded quite satisfied.

Harriet groaned sitting on the floor looking at her bloodied knees and wincing. Kieran came over, kneeling as best he could to inspect them.

“Look at that, you lot! Potter fought! She fought it and she damn near beat it! Well done, Potter! Very well done indeed! Let’s try that again, Potter. The rest of you, pay attention and watch her eyes. That’s where you’ll see it. Excellent, Potter. Yes, Daniel and Lupin told me you were talented but throwing off the Imperius Curse at your age; excellent indeed. They’ll have a hard time controlling _you!_ ”

Harriet flushed brightly as Kieran got up and helped Harriet to her feet as well.

“Actually, Professor, Harriet should really get these patched up,” Kieran said indicating Harriet’s knees.

“Ah, yes,” Professor Moody said. “Quite right, O’Brien. Right then, Potter, off to the Hospital Wing with you. We’ll try again next class and I promise next time won’t risk much injury.”

Harriet headed off to the Hospital Wing by herself. She was limping a bit trying to process all that had happened. With classes in session, the halls were ominously quiet.

_Heh, what I wouldn’t have given for moments like this last year_ , Harriet thought, recalling how awkward it had always felt with Aurochius following her around everywhere she went. However, she immediately felt guilty about it, knowing how kind and understanding Aurochius had tried to be about being her bodyguard and reminded herself to say hello to him over the weekend.

The sound of voices made her pause. Harriet looked around and realized they were coming from a side corridor up ahead. She slowly moved towards it and peered around the corner.

Draco Malfoy was sitting on a bench, his face in his hands. Sitting with him was Kenley, her lips twisted with concern. Harriet ducked out of sight but couldn’t help but listen in.

“What am I supposed to do? They’re my friends, they’ve always been my friends,” Draco said, his voice muffled as he spoke into his palms.

“Yeah, awesome friends there,” Kenley replied.

“Oh lay off of me for _once_ , will you?” Draco snapped.

Harriet heard the sound of feet moving and guessed that Draco had gotten to his feet. By the sound of it he was pacing in frustration.

“You know for someone who’s so afraid of losing friends, lashing out at the one person trying to be there for you is _probably_ not a very good idea.”

The feet stopped and there was an awkward silence. “Sorry…” Draco said.

Harriet furrowed her brow. He sounded like he really meant it.

“It’s just…” Draco said fumbling around for words. “I just don’t know what to do. Everyone expects something from me… I’m supposed to uphold the house’s reputation, then my friends attack other Slytherins. Whose side am I supposed to take?! I tried to curse him, I didn’t even think about it, I just did it! Professor Snape tells me I did the right thing. _Moody_ turns me into a—” Draco cursed badly “—ferret for it. Then Dad! Dad wants me to _get with_ Potter… right like that’s ever gonna happen because they all expect me to just keep being this hateful git because of everything I’ve had to do to try and keep the friends I already have!”

Draco resumed pacing. Harriet grimaced peeking around the corner again.

“Well, you know she probably would see you differently if you actually _tried_ ,” Kenley said. “And I told you stop calling her ‘Potter’. If you want this to work calling her by her last name isn’t going to help,” Kenley said.

“I have tried! I took a freaking _Bludger_ for her! I tried to get my dad to stop them taking that mad hippogriff’s head! I don’t know how to do anything else or be anything else!” Draco was pulling on his hair now.

“Whoa, okay just calm down,” Kenley said.

She got to her feet and put a hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco froze and Harriet expected him to shrug it off but she was surprised as Draco instead dropped his hands from his hair which now stood one end.

“Everyone expects something from me. No… they all expect me to _be_ something… And every time I try and be whoever they want me to be I fail. Mum and Dad expect me to bring the family honour. Professor Snape expects me to be the best student in the school. My friends expect me to hate everybody. Potter expects me to be just like them too.”

Kenley sighed. “Because you’re always trying to be someone you’re not.”

“Well who the hell am I then?!” Draco said finally tugging his shoulder out of Kenley’s grasp. “Sorry—I just—I know you’re trying to help and I see your points… I just…”

Draco gave a deep sigh, full of despair. “Can I just be alone for a while?”

Harriet blinked, her mouth hanging open. Draco hadn’t asked angrily. It wasn’t a demand. Kenley contemplated him, clearly torn.

“Will you be alright?” she asked.

Draco nodded, not looking at her. “Yeah, I just… I need to think.”

Kenley bit her lip and shifted from foot to foot. Harriet ducked out of sight and looked for somewhere to hide, sure that Kenley was going to come her way but instead she heard Kenley’s footsteps receding, going in the opposite direction. Harriet peeked back around the corner again. Kenley was indeed walking away. Draco was still sitting on the bench but he wasn’t staring into space or burying his face in his hands anymore. Instead he was watching Kenley walking away, watching the whole time until she turned a corner out of sight.

“Hey.”

Harriet jumped and spun around. Marcus was walking up to her down the hallway. Harriet looked back down the side corridor. Draco was gone. Harriet furrowed her brow. Where had he gone?

“What’s up?” Marcus asked as he neared.

“Nothing,” Harriet lied quickly. “What about you? Class isn’t over yet is it?”

Marcus’ went as red as the stripes on his tie, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “No… Moody tried putting the curse on me and well, I guess I tried to throw it off with one of my flame charms without thinking…”

Harriet gave Marcus a sympathetic look.

“Did he kick you out or something?”

Marcus looked away. “No… I just… left…”

“Sorry…” Harriet said.

“How do you do it?” Marcus asked.

“Do what?”

“Put up with it. What they put you through?”

Harriet shifted uncomfortably. He was talking about the Dursleys.

“I haven’t seen her in years… seeing the boggart of her last year was the first I’ve seen her since Dad and I left Australia, and she still makes me go to pieces… how do you get by?”

Harriet thought. She’d never really considered it before.

“I… I don’t know. I guess I just… always knew there was something else out there, that somehow I’d escape. That it wouldn’t last forever?”

Marcus sighed. “Wish it was that easy for me…”

Harriet gave him a sympathetic look. “Want to get something from the Hospital Wing with me?”

“Nah,” Marcus muttered. “I just… think I wanna be alone.”

Without another word, Marcus headed off down the same corridor Draco and Kenley had been in, leaving Harriet alone once with her very confused thoughts and very sore knees.

## * * * *

It was the 21st of October. The Gryffindors were all smarting from burns and scratches having just had another stimulating Care of Magical Creatures lesson with the Blast-Ended Skrewts, which continued to grow larger and larger despite no one being quite sure what they ate. They had all entered the school to the find a crowd gathered around the announcement which had been posted on a large sign at the foot of the marble staircase.

Scott hurried over towards them, grinning excitedly. “It’s the announcement about when the schools are going to turn up for the tournament, look!”

As they were near the back, Harriet couldn’t see over the crowd. Ronnie, as the tallest, went on tip toe and read aloud.

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_The delegations from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Four Nations, and Mount Phoenix will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday 28 th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

 

“Only a week away!” Ernie Macmillan said, having listened in. “I’ll have to tell Cedric! See you lot!”

“I’m a bit more thrilled for the fact that means Snape won’t get to poison us after all,” Marcus grumbled as Ernie hurried away.

“Not wrong,” Ronnie agreed.

“Cedric must be entering,” Kieran said. “Wonder who else?”

“Hope it’s a Gryffindor,” Ronnie said as they also headed off, climbing the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. “Instead of pretty-boy Diggory.”

“ _Pretty-boy_?” Hermione snorted.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Well, he is. Always walking around with that big dumb smile on his face and girls following him around everywhere.”

“Oh you just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch.”

“Hmph,” Ronnie snorted. “Not much of a win if you ask me…”

“He apologised for that!” Harriet said. “And he’s a prefect and he’s captain of the Hufflepuff team and he gets really good marks and he’s really nice. You remember how cool he was when Isabella brought us into the Hufflepuff common room our second year?”

Harriet paused realising everyone had stopped and was looking at her with wide-eyes. She was almost out of breath. She felt her cheeks get very red very quickly.

Ronnie’s look of shock quickly dissolved into laughter. “You _fancy_ him!” Ronnie declared, howling.

“Oh shut up!” Harriet snapped.

“Of course she fancies him,” Hermione said, her tone somewhere between sympathy for Harriet and disgust at Ronnie’s teasing. “She’s fancied him for ages, Ronnie.”

“Oh you’re so lucky Wood never found out,” Ronnie carried on. “He’d have died on the spot!” Ronnie puffed up her chest and poorly imitated Wood’s voice. “Betrayal! Dishonour!”

“Okay, okay,” Scott said in a quelling voice.

“What’s the fuss?” Dora asked, joining them from another corridor. “You lot see the announcement?”

For some reason, the sight of Dora made Ronnie’s grin grow even wider.

“Yes, we saw,” Scott said, giving Ronnie a scathing look.

“Harriet’s got a cruu-ush, Harriet’s got a cruu-ush,” Ronnie sing-songed.

“Oh…?” Dora asked. She sounded apprehensive.

“Mmmhmmm,” Ronnie grinned. She looked happier than Harriet had seen her in ages.

“Um, who?” Dora asked. She sounded as though she was trying much too hard to be casual.

“She digs _Diiiiiiggory_ ,” Ronnie teased.

“Oh leave her alone, would you?” Marcus snapped now.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ronnie said. “Sorry, I won’t mention it again, I promise.”

They continued on down the hall in silence, and not quite together. Harriet, Hermione and Marcus were in the main group. Kieran and Dora seemed to be hanging back. Harriet kept stealing glances back at them. Dora was looking at the floor as they walked. Kieran kept stealing glances at Dora. Once or twice Harriet noted him open his mouth to say something but decided against it.

Ronnie meanwhile was walking a little ways ahead of them. Her head was held jauntily high and her shoulders were held back. She looked for all the world like she’d just been given the best Christmas present of her life.

## * * * *

Ronnie was good to her word and didn’t mention Harriet’s crush on Cedric again. Dora had grown distant, and was spending more and more time with her other Slytherin friends as the week wore on. Harriet meanwhile had no idea what to do or say to her. She thought about asking Sirius, or writing to Daniel and Remus, but she didn’t know what to say to any of them either.

Matters weren’t helped by the fact a tidal wave of tension grew and continued to build inside the school as the arrivals drew near. Whispers and rumours bristled throughout the school over who would enter, who would be picked, what the students from the other schools would be like, and so on and so on.

Argus Filch, the caretaker, was even nastier than usual in the lead-up to the twenty-eighth. The entire castle had undergone a thorough scrub-down, and was cleaner than Harriet had ever seen it. Filch spent the whole week lurking by the front doors, waiting to swoop down on any student foolish enough to forget to wipe their shoes before entering the castle.

Even the professors had become edgy. Professor McGonagall told Neville off in their last Transfiguration lesson for still being unable to perform a Switching Spell. The night before the arrivals, she also made a rare appearance in the common room to brief them all how they were to behave during the arrival.

“You are all to be on your best behaviour. There will be no horseplay in line. You will stand straight, hands at your sides, and smile your brightest.”

“Yes, cuz that won’t look forced at all,” George muttered under his breath. Erica elbowed him gently in the ribs.

“Your uniforms are to look their best. Shirts tucked in, everyone. Ties on straight. Robes on right. Shoes tied. Shirt cuffs done properly. Hats on _straight_ —” Professor McGonagall raised her voice over the groans at this. No one liked wearing the hats. “—Gentleman, your trouser legs will be straight and check all hems. Ladies, I expect all your socks to be of proper height and straight as well.”

“Ugh, the way she goes on,” Ronnie muttered after Professor McGonagall left. “You’d think we were all savages.”

“Yes, because you’re the total picture of decorum, aren’t you?” Hermione said looking up from her Ancient Runes textbook to observe Ronnie ignoring her homework and attempting to balance an Exploding Snap card on her nose instead.

“We have all weekend,” Ronnie said, putting down the card.

“Yes, and no amount of excitement over meeting students from other schools is going to get in the way of working on it over the weekend, either?”

Ronnie grumbled and pulled her Muggle Studies textbook over and started reading.

“How are the other students going to get here, you reckon?” Seamus Finnigan asked from the other table. “Portkey you think?”

“Dunno,” Dean replied. “Probably.”

“Think they’ll apparate?” Ronnie asked, clearly glad of another distraction.

“Doubtful,” Hermione said.

“Why’s that? All the contestants have to be of age, don’t they?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Because it’s impossible to apparate into, or disapparate out of the Hogwarts grounds.”

“Well, they could apparate into Hogsmeade,” Kieran said, reasonably.

“Hmmm, that’s true,” Hermione said. “But we have to meet them at the entrance to the school, not the grounds… also, apparating is difficult to do for distances over three hundred miles, and Four Nations is thousands of miles away, so it would still take them a while if Apparating.”

“What do you think the tasks are going to be?” Ronnie asked, looking keen to further the conversation. “We’ve done plenty of dangerous stuff before though, I bet we could do them even if we’re not of age.”

“Fat chance,” Fred said, walking over.

Harriet looked around and saw George and Erica cuddled together on one of the couches talking quietly and giving each other light kisses every few words. On most any other circumstance, Harriet would have found it a bit revolting, but now as she watched, she felt an odd mix of giddiness and envy well up inside her.

Ronnie’s irritable voice called Harriet’s attention back to the group. “Says you,” Ronnie snapped.

“Yeah, says me,” Fred said. “It’s a lot different doing things in front of a giant crowd while being judged on it.”

Kieran now gave a rare eye-roll. “Yeah, somehow I think I’ll take that over dealing with a horde of acromantula again any day.”

“Agreed,” Harriet said. “Or fighting a basilisk.”

Harriet shivered before changing the subject. “Who does the judging?”

“Well, traditionally the three heads of school are on the panel, though this year I’m going to assume it will be all five of them.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like it’d be open to bias at all,” Fred muttered, taking a seat with them. “Though, I suppose it would balance out. Everyone will rate other schools’ champions poorly and their own highly. Wonder what made them decide that.”

“It was instituted after the Tournament of 1792 when all three Heads were injured by a cockatrice that went on a rampage. Honestly, didn’t anyone read anything in _Hogwarts: A History_ besides the section on the Chamber of Secrets?”

“No,” every student within earshot said.

“Although, that’s not exactly what one could call an accurate title, is it? _A Revised History of Hogwarts: A Very Selective and Biased Account which Glosses over the Nastier Aspects of the School_ would be more appropriate.”

“What the devil are you on about?” Fred asked.

“ _House elves!_ ” Hermione said, giving Fred a cold look. While George had bought one of the S.P.E.W. badges (Harriet suspected Erica’s involvement there), Fred and flatly refused.

Fred rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “Hermione? Have you ever actually met any of the Hogwarts’ house elves? Ever been down in the kitchens?”

“No, of course not,” Hermione said. “I hardly think we students are allowed.”

Harriet suddenly felt herself become very interested in some carved initials in the table-top.

“Well, I have. _Loads_ of times,” Fred said. “And I’ve met them, and they’re _happy_. They think they have the best job in the world!”

“That’s because they’re uneducated and brainwashed!” Hermione snapped.

Harriet, Kieran, Marcus, and Ronnie all sighed.

## * * * *

Harriet shivered slightly in the evening chill. It was nearly six o’clock, and it was already mostly dark. The moon was half full as it hung just over the top of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The only sounds Harriet could hear was the hushed conversation and the distant rustling of the trees swaying in the light breeze.

Harriet smiled and gave a little wave to Aurochius who was standing guard at the doors. He smiled and returned it, but then paused and held a hand up. Harriet figured he was trying to block out the light of the moon as he looked at something.

“Aha!” said Professor Dumbledore, cheerfully. “Unless I am much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

The students all began to look around excitedly.

“There!” shouted a Ravenclaw sixth-year, pointing over the tops of the trees just to the right of the moon.

Harriet squinted and sure enough, a large black shape was steadily growing.

“It’s a dragon!” squeaked a little first year Slytherin girl.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dennis Creevey chided. “It’s a flying house!”

Dennis was closer, but not quite right either. The object finally got close enough that it was lit up by the lights of the school and revealed to be not a dragon, nor a house, but a house-sized, horse-drawn carriage. The horses that were pulling the carriage were the most astonishing part, Harriet thought. Twelve of them, each was the size of an elephant, palominos with great, broad wings.

The horses and carriage finally landed, coming in so fast and hard they shook the ground as they hit. The horses pulled the carriage up to the castle and Harriet could make them out fully in the light from the open Entrance Hall. Their eyes were a burning red, and their manes were shimmering as though made of golden floss.

“Heh, get a load of those mares, buddy,” Jackson Lee said nearby. Harriet looked around to see him standing with Epeius. “If you were feeling really ambitious…”

There was a very pregnant pause before Epeius grumbled. “…I think I will stick to unicorns, thanks…”

Harriet giggled and looked back to the carriage which had just stopped in front of the school. The carriage itself was a pleasant, pale blue. There was a large door with a coat of arms upon it; two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars. The door opened and a boy, wearing robes the same colour as the carriage, as well as a pale-blue blazer with a white button up shirt with matching blue tie underneath and blue slacks, stepped out.

The boy fumbled with something on the floor of the carriage and folded out a large, golden set of steps. He leapt back a couple of paces, standing straight and serious. It was then that a foot and shining, black high-heeled pump emerged from the door. Harriet felt her jaw drop. The shoe was so large Harriet was sure a small child could have ridden in it like a sled.

If the foot was large, it was nothing to the woman it was attached to. Many people around her gasped. The only person Harriet had ever seen of this size was Hagrid, though this woman looked as though she was slightly taller, even without the twelve-inch heels and more slender of build. She had shoulder length brown hair, and an austere face that put Harriet in mind of an enormous Professor McGonagall.

She was olive-skinned and dark, bright eyes that also reminded Harriet of Hagrid. She was wearing black, satin robes that shone in the light from the Entrance Hall. She also wore several necklaces and rings of opals.

Her stern face melted into a warm smile as Professor Dumbledore stepped out onto the front step of the Entrance Hall. Professor Dumbledore began to clap and the students all began to applaud too. The woman walked towards Professor Dumbledore and extended one opal covered hand towards him. Professor Dumbledore barely had to bend over to kiss it.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” Professor Dumbledore said courteously. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Dumbly-dorr,” Madame Maxime replied. “I ‘ope I find you well?”

Harriet just fought back a little snort. She looked around and caught Dora’s eye. Dora had still been a bit cold to Harriet over the past week, but Harriet couldn’t help it. Dora flushed and Harriet could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Madame Maxime’s voice sounded almost the same as Dora’s father’s. Harriet gave Dora a little smile and for the first time in a week, Dora returned it.

“Oh I am on excellent form, if I do say so, and thank you,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“My pupils,” Madame Maxime said.

She stepped aside and gestured behind her. It was then that Harriet noted there was about a dozen boys and girls in their late teens standing behind her. The boys were all dressed as the boy who had lowered the steps from the carriage had been. The girls on the other hand were wearing pale blue jackets, shirts and ties, but wore skirts instead of trousers. The skirts came down to just past their knees and they wore dark hose instead of socks and heeled, oxford shoes.

Unconsciously, Harriet found herself scanning the group for Camille, though she quickly reminded herself that as Camille was the same age as her and her friends, she was unlikely to be in the group.

Harriet did note that all the students were shivering to varying degrees. All of their uniforms, she noted, seemed to be made of silk, as were their robes, and none wore cloaks. She did note that one or two were wearing thick scarves, and all of them were looking up at Hogwarts apprehensively.

“’Ave ze ozers arrived?” Madame Maxime asked.

“Alas you are the first, my dear lady, and right on time as usual. Would you like to stay and greet the rest, or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”

“Warm up, I think,” Madame Maxime said. “But ze ‘orses—”

“Our Care of Magical Creatures professor will be delighted to take care of them,” Professor Dumbledore said, “although at the moment he is indisposed, dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his—er—other charges.”

“Skrewts,” Ronnie hissed, with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Well, my steeds require—er—rather forceful ‘andling,” Madame Maxime said, her tone full of doubt. “Zey are very strong…”

“I assure you that Hagrid will be up to the job,” Professor Dumbledore said, chortling.

“Very well, would you please tell zis Monsieur ‘Agrid zat ze ‘orses only drink single-malt whisky?”

“It will be attended to,” Professor Dumbledore said, bowing.

“Come,” Madame Maxime said to her students and swept up the stairs into the castle.

“How big d’you reckon the other schools’ horses will be?” Seamus hissed to Dean.

“Dunno,” Dean replied. “But if they’re any bigger than these even Hagrid’s gonna have a hard time of it.”

“Do you think the Skrewts escaped?” Parvati asked. She sounded as though she did not know whether to be hopeful, or terrified.

“Oh I hope not,” Hermione said. “Imagine that lot loose in the grounds…”

The group fell silent as Professor McGonagall cast her eyes over them. They waited, everyone glancing around the sky expectantly. The only sounds that passed over the crowd was the occasional sneeze or cough, and the stamping and snorting of the enormous Beauxbatons horses.

“Anyone hear that?” Ronnie asked, looking around.

Harriet heard it now too. A loud and eerie sucking noise was slowly filling the night. It sounded like a giant tub being emptied of water.

“The lake!” Lee Jordan yelled out, pointing down at it. “Look at the lake!”

The entire crowd all turned and looked down at the lake with interest. From their position, the lake was fully in view, but now instead of being glassy smooth as it had when they came out to greet the schools, it was frothing in the middle and casting great waves that were washing up on the shore. Then, the bubbles turned into a whirlpool.

“Yes, it seems Durmstrang is the second to arrive,” Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully.

There were gasps and cries of shock when out of the whirlpool, a long, black pole began rising up. Then came rigging.

“It’s a mast!” Harriet declared.

The ship rose magnificently from the whirlpool which stopped the moment it reached the surface. To Harriet, the ship looked more like a wreck than a real ship. The sails were all pulled in giving it a skeletal appearance, and the dimly lit portholes looked to Harriet like many winking little eyes looking up at them. In spite of herself, Harriet imagined the ship at the centre of a deep mystery, wanting to investigate if it was a real ship or a ghost ship, or perhaps a real ship disguised as a ghost ship by pirates wishing to strike further fear into the hearts of their targets.

The ship floated silently towards the short, turning sideways slowly. When it was close enough, Harriet could see little figures climbing about the riggings and running along the deck. She could also hear a loud woman’s voice, as though speaking through a bull horn, giving orders. There was the splash of an anchor hitting the water and the ship finally came to a stop. A long plank slid out and dropped onto the bank.

Finally a line of people began disembarking down the plank. Harriet blinked. All of them seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle, with big broad shoulders and very little neck. However, when they got near enough, Harriet could see that they were all wearing thick cloaks with large, fur-lined collars.

As they ascended the hill, the Durmstrang students began removing their cloaks as if too hot. Underneath, Harriet saw that the boys and the girls both appeared to be wearing the same style of uniform. They wore blood-red jackets with golden military style buttons and black slacks.

“Oh come on, _they_ get to wear pants!” AJ groaned nearby.

The woman leading them was a stark contrast to Madame Maxime. She looked much younger, perhaps in her mid to late thirties. Her dark hair was done up into a bun rather like Professor McGonagall’s. In the dim light, Harriet could not tell if the hair colour was dark red or brown.

Harriet noted that she was also quite tall, though nowhere nearly as tall as Madame Maxime had been. She was not wearing a dress, or if she was it was covered by her robes and cloak. She only wore a simple golden chain necklace for jewellery and was looking at the opulent Beauxbatons carriage with marked distaste.

“Ah, greetings Professor Ilves,” Professor Dumbledore said in greeting. “I do hope your journey was pleasant?”

Professor Ilves held out a hand to Professor Dumbledore and he bent over it and kissed the top as he had with Madame Maxime. Harriet noted that Professor Ilves pulled her hand away rather quicker than Madame Maxime had. Harriet got the impression she was not at all comfortable with the pomp and circumstance of the occasion.

“Is good to see you, Professor Dumbledore,” Professor Ilves replied Harriet was struck by how clearly she spoke, an accent just detectable under the service. “I see you have rolled out ze red carpet for us, jah?”

“Yes indeed,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Some occasions do call for a bit of revelry and fun don’t you think?”

“Perhaps so,” Professor Ilves said, raising her eyes to the castle. “Well, it looks quite comfortable. Vould you mind if my students stepped inside? Ve have had a rash of head-colds sveep through ze school and some of our of-age students have also come down with it.”

“Not at all, dear lady, not at all.”

“Eeskujulik,” Madam Ilves said. “Come along, everyone.”

The students followed Professor Ilves as she ascended the steps. She paused on the threshold, giving Aurochius and Limius calculating looks. The minotaurs both gave her little nods and she stepped inside. Harriet wasn’t sure if they had been giving looks of recognition, or sizing each other up.

As the students passed Ronnie suddenly gripped Harriet’s arm hard and pointed at one of the students. Harriet followed her finger and saw him. He was average height with thick black hair and eyebrows. He had a prominent curved nose and Harriet felt her own jaw drop in recognizing who it was. It was Viktor Krum.

“Omigosh, it’s Krum, Viktor Krum!”

Krum paused for a brief moment and Harriet wondered if he’d heard Ronnie. A wave of murmuring began to grow, sweeping over the students. Krum gave a little shudder, sneezed into his sleeve, scowled and headed into the castle.

“I didn’t know he was still at school!” Ronnie said. “I mean I knew he was young, but not that young!”

“Well, we know that they’re not all arriving by flying carriage now,” Lee Jordan said. “Wonder how the other two schools are going to get here then?”

“No idea,” Fred said, though he sounded eager.

They were waiting for another few minutes when Harriet started to feel it. A low rumbling through the ground. Harriet noted that everyone else was looking down too.

“No…” Epeius said quietly. “It can’t be…”

“What?” Jackson asked him.

“It’s…” Epeius turned around looking towards the lake.

“What, another boat?” Fred asked, noticing.

“No…” Epeius said. He was breathing quickly, his large chest expanding and contracting rapidly with excitement.

There was a mist at the far end of the lake. It was growing closer and closer and Harriet noted that now the trembling in the ground had stopped. There was a strange rushing noise, a deep growing roar.

“Ah, unless I am much mistaken, the delegation from Mount Phoenix approaches,” Professor Dumbledore said over the murmuring students.

“What the devil… there’s something in the mist,” George said. “What…”

“No, there’s a bunch of things in it,” Erica said, squinting. Her eyes went wide and she turned smiling at Epeius. “Oh wow!”

There was a dark mass in the mist that Harriet could see now. It was moving across the water at alarming speed. Suddenly the mass parted moving around the ship and rocketed up the hill towards them. A haze of dirt and mist passed over the gathered students. As it cleared, Harriet heard lots of snorts and nickering and stamping hooves.

The haze cleared and Harriet’s jaw fell open again. All around them was nearly two-dozen horses hooked up to chariots. Each chariot had two people on it. From the foremost chariot, a man hopped off and strode up to Professor Dumbledore. He was wearing a full white toga with orange trim and heavy black boots.

The man himself had skin as dark as Professor Stratton’s. His teeth were bright white and he beamed around cheerfully at the students as he strode towards Professor Dumbledore. As he stepped into the light of the Entrance Hall Harriet saw that he had a dark goatee, while his head glinted, shaved bald.

“Greetings Albus! Greetings!” the man said holding out a hand.

Professor Dumbledore beamed and took it, shaking heartily. “It is a pleasure as always, Aelius. I see your school’s herd is in as fine form as ever.”

The Mount Phoenix Headmaster beamed brighter taking in all the gathered Hogwarts students.

“Professor Cato,” he said addressing them all. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

He turned and smiled at his students who had all dismounted their chariots. They were all wearing full white togas much as Professor Cato was, with varying coloured trim. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the colours that Harriet could see. The students looked like a kaleidoscope as they approached.

Though that wasn’t all, Harriet also noted that all of them looked rather wet and were giving Professor Cato slightly disgruntled looks as they drew their wands and passed them over their togas, drying them out. The horses too were shaking their great heads and necks trying to shake the water out of their manes.

Professor Cato turned back to his students and waved them forward. He smiled at Professor Dumbledore once more.

“Everyone else inside already?” he asked.

“All have arrived but Four Nations thus far,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “But you and your students may step inside and dry off.”

As they passed, Harriet paused and furrowed her brow. All of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had looked of age, as did the bulk of Mount Phoenix’s students. However, there was one boy amongst the group of students who was clearly much younger. He was black as well, and didn’t look to be any older than Harriet and her friends. He had short, straight hair and was looking up at the castle with his mouth hanging open as he headed up the steps.

“He seems a cheery bloke,” a nearby sixth year girl said.

“Well, he would,” Hermione said in an undertone. “I read that Mount Phoenix has been trying to get into the tournament ever since it was created, but they’re always snubbed. So he’s pretty much made history getting Mount Phoenix into the Triwizard Tournament for the first time since the year twelve-hundred ninety-four. I imagine he’s quite pleased with himself, indeed.”

“Bet you didn’t think you’d see any of them again, eh?” Jackson said.

Harriet looked around. Epeius tail was swishing and his ears flipping around as he took in the horses. Suddenly Harriet understood. The horses pulling the chariots were other Areions.

“They’re proper Areions then?” Harriet asked Hermione.

“Well, in a manner of speaking. Domesticated Areions have been around for ages, it’s only wild American ones like Epeius that were supposed to be extinct.”

“Blimey,” Ronnie said. “He’s a bit on the scrawny side isn’t he? Now you get a proper comparison.”

If tactless as ever, Ronnie had a point. Epeius was much smaller than the Areions pulling the chariots.

“So any lookers in that lot?” Jackson asked nudging Epeius.

Epeius snorted. “Well… not bad…” he turned his long face to Jackson and his eyes narrowed. “Must you always tease me about that?”

Jackson stifled a laugh. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I mean, did I keep giving you grief for the way you gawked at Harriet the first time you saw her—” Epeius chided.

Harriet felt herself go red.

“—Or how hard you tried to _not_ look at Rachel whenever you all went swimming to—”

“Okay, okay!” Jackson hissed. “Point made!”

The Mount Phoenix Areions trotted away, their heads held jauntily high.

“Seem a rather stuck-up bunch, don’t they?” Tori said. “For horses, anyway.”

The students all quieted down once more though the excitement was palpable in the air.

“Wait,” Harriet said and leaned over towards Jackson and Epeius. “I didn’t know you could run on water?”

“Oh yes,” Epeius said. “It’s no good being able to run as fast as we can if you have to stop to avoid every water obstruction, is it?”

“Why did you run around the lake last year instead of on it?” Lavender asked. “That would have been so thrilling and romantic.”

“Well, none of you looked like you needed showers,” Epeius replied. “It’s why we don’t often do it unless we have to. Running over any sizeable body of water tends to get you soaking wet. I think that’s why those Areions were a bit prickly.”

“And here they come!” Professor Dumbledore said and pointed upwards, calling everyone’s attention to the sky which was now fully dark.

Harriet squinted but she didn’t have to for long. A long, slender, dark shape was winding its way through the air towards them, and emitted a great jet of fire from its front.

“IT’S A DRAGON NOW!” the same first year girl who had panicked over the Beauxbatons carriage cried.

Harriet’s eyes went wide. It _was_ a dragon, diving down upon them and billowing fire.

“Bliiiiimey,” Ronnie moaned. “Never seen one _that_ big before! That’s got to be a hundred feet!”

Ronnie’s enthusiasm was not shared by the rest of the students. Some students even turned and ran towards the door to escape.

There was an ear-splitting bang and everyone froze. Professor Dumbledore was holding his wand in the air and looking over the students with a serious and disapproving expression. His expression lightened and he lowered his wand, raising the other towards the oncoming dragon.

“Behold,” Professor Dumbledore said. “How things are not always what they appear.”

Harriet looked back up at the dragon. It swooped low and circled the grounds. It was bright red with large scales and a shimmering, golden belly. It looked like it was straight out of an old Chinese painting. It was then that Harriet noticed it. The legs seemed much too rigid, the mouth wasn’t moving and the eyes were blank, staring and lifeless. Additionally, the body was not moving smoothly like a snake. Instead there were obvious joints along the body, more like a train. It wasn’t a real dragon after all.

The dragon alighted on the ground finally. It hissed and smoke billowed from the open mouth and nostrils. Harriet gasped as a door opened halfway along the dragon and it lowered onto its golden belly.

“Wicked,” Ronnie grinned.

A figure stepped out of the door onto the ground. Harriet recognized him at once. Short, balding with white hair and long flowing beard that did little to hide his portly belly. It was General Wengshuk.

A stream of students followed him from the dragon. They fanned out into a wide line and began walking towards the school, everyone keeping pace walking side by side. Wengshuk smiled merrily as Professor Dumbledore strode towards them, clasping hands with the much shorter man.

“Ahhhh, Jigme it is so wonderful to see you again so soon,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Pleasant journey, I trust?”

“Ah yes, quite relaxing,” Wengshuk said in his gravely but cheerful voice.

Harriet, who had met Wengshuk before, was taking in the students instead. Unlike the other schools, the Four Nations students did not seem to have any set uniform. They all were wearing green robes, but underneath they were all wearing normal Muggle dress clothes.

“They don’t have uniforms at Four Nations,” Hermione said. “So many cultures mix there they’ve never been able to agree on one, so they just wear robes and muggle clothes.”

“Oh, come on!” AJ moaned.

There was indeed a great many races amongst the students, Harriet noted. The majority looked to be Japanese and Chinese, though there were others she could identify. There was a handful of Koreans, and some she thought were Indonesian.

“Well now,” Professor Dumbledore said smiling around at the students. “With that, everyone has arrived. Let us now retire into the castle for our most excellent feast and get to know our guests in more detail.”

The Four Nations students went first. Harriet watched them all with interest. They were pointing out different parts of the castle and speaking to each other rapidly in other languages. One boy hung back, gawping slightly as he took in the castle. He was Japanese, wearing a sky-blue suit. On closer inspection, Harriet noted that the suit looked a bit worn and old. The hems of his trousers were frayed here and there.

The boy jumped realizing he was being left behind. He hurried to try and catch up with the others when his foot caught on the edge of his robes and he stumbled, barely avoiding landing face-first in the dirt. He pushed himself back up looking around at everyone, blushing furiously before hurrying up the steps and into the school.

“Wow,” Ronnie said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I dunno who’s gonna get picked for champions but I’ll tell you this, there’s no way he’ll be one.”


	15. The Guests

“Ah how far a little self-confidence can go. It always reminds me that when faced with the choice of betting on yourself and betting on failure, always bet on yourself. Of the two options, only betting on yourself leaves open the path to success, and even more confidence down that road.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The houses all filed in to the Great Hall. The students from the other schools were already inside; standing along the walls as if unsure where to sit. Many of the girls around the Great Hall were whispering excitedly and pointing unabashedly at Krum. Even the girls from other schools were pointing him out and whispering.

Nearby, Harriet overheard some sixth-year girls talking excitedly about getting Krum to sign autographs for them in lipstick.

“ _Really_ ,” Hermione sniffed.

“What? I’m going to get one if I can,” Ronnie said.

“In _lipstick_?” Hermione asked.

“No!” Ronnie snapped. “Haven’t got a quill, have you, Harriet?”

“Nope, all in my bag back in the common room,” Harriet said.

“Why do you want one, anyway?” Hermione asked. “I didn’t think you were all that big a fan of Quidditch.”

“Well, yeah, I like Quidditch. I just… well… thought it might make a nice present for someone.”

“Ohhhhhh,” Hermione said and to Harriet’s surprise, Hermione’s expression softened into a knowing smile.

“Who for?” Harriet asked, interested.

“Oh, you know, just… someone,” Ronnie said evasively.

“Well, don’t worry, Ronnie. There’s going to be time for that,” Hermione said. “The choosing won’t be until Monday. So, you have all weekend.”

“Oh, yeah right,” Ronnie said and she smiled looking reassured.

“Besides, tomorrow’s our first school football match,” Marcus said, grinning. “Us versus Ravenclaw. We can show them all what a real sport looks like.”

“Hey!” Harriet and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team protested.

Marcus laughed loudly.

“It will be fun getting to play in front of all the other schools though, won’t it?” Hermione asked.

“Heh, maybe,” Ronnie said uncertainly.

“Oh Ronnie, you’re going to be fine,” Hermione said.

“Just never played in front of a crowd this big before,” Ronnie said. “And this is going to be the _first_ game! If it gets all mucked up and everyone hates it then we’ll probably have to drop the program and—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Kieran said, trying to sound calming while not laughing at the same time. “Relax, Ronnie. It’ll be fine.”

While they talked the other students began to take seats at the house tables. The Durmstrang students sat at the Slytherin table, Beauxbatons with the Ravenclaws, Mount Phoenix with the Hufflepuffs and finally the Four Nations students joined them at the Gryffindor table.

As Harriet watched, two girls leapt up at the Ravenclaw table and embraced one of the Beauxbatons girls. The girl pulled down her muffler and Harriet’s jaw fell open. Even from across the Great Hall, Harriet could tell the girl was beautiful. The girl’s hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and looked to be silver-blonde water instead of hair. Her skin was pale and smooth and her teeth shone bright white all the way across the candle-lit hall.

“Must be related,” Hermione said.

“What?” Kieran asked, distracted.

“That Beauxbatons girl, she must be a relative of theirs. A cousin perhaps.”

“Who are they?” Harriet asked.

“The Delacour sisters,” Hermione said rolling her eyes. “You’ve met Charity before, she’s in our year. Sophie just started this year.”

“She did?” Harriet asked. “Must have been distracted when she was sorted.”

“It does seem to get harder to pay attention every year doesn’t it?” Ronnie agreed.

“You’ve never paid attention,” Hermione reprimanded.

“Well, they don’t look much alike, if they are,” Harriet said, considering the Delacour sisters and the Beauxbatons girl.

Further down their bench, a group of the older Gryffindor girls, which included Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, quickly made room for the Four Nations boy who had stumbled on the steps. They all giggled as they began bombarding him with questions.

“Kazunari,” the boy said introducing himself. “Kazunari Watanuki. From Japan in the Confederation.”

“Confederation?” Katie asked.

“Hai,” Kazunari said. “It is made up of Japan and Indonesia and most of the small island nations.”

Harriet looked over at the Slytherin table. Durmstrang’s students were looking at the enchanted ceiling with great interest and wonder; inspecting the golden plates and goblets. The Beauxbatons students weren’t as impressed.

Eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff table Harriet noted that the Mount Phoenix students weren’t struggling to fit in. In fact they were talking and laughing happily. At their own table, the Four Nations students seemed to be of the same mind-set as the Durmstrang students as they admired the ceiling and the fine cutlery and plates.

“We do not get nice stuff like this at Four Nations,” Kazunari said inspecting his own golden goblet. “Only for special occasions.”

“Well, we don’t either,” Alicia said. “You all showing up sort of is a special occasion.”

“Oh, uh… hai, good point,” Kazunari said, blushing brightly and rubbing the back of his neck.

Apparently the girls around him all found this quite charming and broke into another fit of giggles.

“You speak really good English,” said another seventh year girl.

“Ah, thank you,” Kazunari said and bowed his head to her. “My parents insisted on my sister and me learning it.”

“Awwwww, you have a sister?” Katie asked.

“Hai, yes, Mayu. She is thirteen,” he said and pulled out a photo, showing it around.

Harriet could not see the photo but the girls all cooed over it as though Mayu was three, not thirteen. Harriet rolled her eyes and looked around the room some more. At the staff table, Filch the caretaker was adding extra chairs. One was the size of Hagrid’s, which Harriet assumed was for Madame Maxime. There were five others. Two of them had been moved to flank either side of Professor Dumbledore’s chair.

“Six more chairs?” Harriet asked. “But there’s only four new headmasters and mistresses.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Marcus said scratching his cheek.

Just then, the staff entered. They filed up to the staff table with Professors Dumbledore, Ilves, Cato, General Wengshuk and Madame Maxime bringing up the rear. The moment Madame Maxime entered, the Beauxbatons students all got to their feet. A few Hogwarts students sniggered at them but they looked quite unabashed and did not sit again until Madame Maxime sat.

Professor Dumbledore remained standing and spread his arms wide in greeting.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and—most particularly—guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

The Beauxbatons girl who had hugged the Delacour sisters scoffed in disbelief.

“No one’s making you stay,” Harriet hissed irritably.

“Quite right,” Hermione sniffed in agreement.

“The Tournament will officially open at the end of the feast,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

Professor Dumbledore sat and at once food appeared in all the dishes in front of them. A wave of new and stimulating smells washed over Harriet’s senses as she looked over the table. Foods from all around the world were before them, many of them Asian.

Harriet quickly filled her plate with as much as she could reach. Ronnie, who Harriet never knew to turn her nose up at food, wrinkled her nose as she poked the surface of a shellfish stew with the ladle.

“What’s that?” Ronnie asked.

“Bouillabaisse,” Hermione said.

“Gesundheit,” Ronnie said.

“It’s _French_ ,” Hermione said lifting her eyes to the ceiling. “I had it on holiday the summer before last, it’s really quite tasty.”

“If you say so,” Ronnie muttered and helped herself to black pudding instead.

“Hot! Hot!” Dean Thomas gasped further down the table

As Harriet watched, Dean grabbed up a carafe of pumpkin juice and began drinking from it. Lavender, Parvati, and AJ all crinkled their noses while the Four Nations students all looked around at him and laughed.

Kazunari rose a bit to look at Dean’s plate. “Oof, Gan Guo… bad blind choice,” he said shaking his head and sitting back down.

“Only looked like a bloody salad,” Dean said, panting as Seamus patted his friend on the shoulder, trying not to smile too much.

“Isn’t that a Chinese dish, though?” Erica asked.

“Yes, but we eat all kinds of food at Four Nations. The school tries to accept all cultures there, accordingly. It is not always very easy however,” Kazunari replied.

Harriet looked back up at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore was in deep conversation with Professor Cato, who was still grinning ear to ear. Madame Maxime was chatting with Professor Vector, the Arithmancy professor. General Wengshuk was in deep discussion with Professor Morrisey, who was making a rare appearance in the Great Hall for the occasion. Professor Ilves was talking to Professor Moody. She appeared to be studying Professor Moody’s magical eye with great scrutiny.

Harriet raised her eyebrows in bewilderment as Professor Moody gave a laugh and actually popped the eye out of its socket and handed it over to her. Harriet felt her stomach get a little queasy at the sight of the black pit of Professor Moody’s empty eye-socket and Professor Ilves holding up the eye to a candle to better see it as she inspected it closely. Apparently Professor Sinistra felt the same, as she set down her knife and fork and pushed her plate away.

As she turned away from the staff table, Harriet noticed Hagrid who was squeezing into the hall through the staff entrance. Harriet noted that his hands were both heavily bandaged.

“How’re the Skrewts, Hagrid?” Harriet called.

“Thrivin’!” Hagrid called back.

“I guess they are,” Ronnie said. “Looks like they’ve found something they’ll eat: Hagrid’s fingers.”

“Excuse me, are you finished with the bouillabaisse?”

Everyone looked around. It was the beautiful Beauxbatons girl again. She was even more stunning up close. Her facial features perfectly symmetrical. Her eyes were large and even deeper blue than Professor Dumbledore’s. Her teeth looked as though they had been aligned with a straightedge.

The boys had all gone silent as the girl stood over them. Harriet gave her head a shake and seemed to come to her own senses.

“Yes, take it,” Hermione said, sounding vacant as she pushed the bowl towards the girl without looking at her.

“You ‘ave finished wiz it?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said now, sounding breathless. “It was great.”

The girl gave Ronnie the faintest of smiles before picking up the bowl and carrying it back over to the Ravenclaw table. The boys and Ronnie were all still staring at the Beauxbatons girl. Harriet snorted and they seemed to come out of trances.

“She’s a _Veela_ ,” Ronnie said, looking wide-eyed with excitement.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Ronnie,” Hermione said dismissively.

“She is though!” Ronnie insisted. “That’s almost the same way I felt at the World Cup when the Veela were… dancing…” Ronnie trailed off awkwardly and started eating again.

“Look who it is!” Hermione hissed grabbing Harriet’s arm.

Harriet jumped but followed Hermione’s gaze back to the staff table. The two empty chairs had now been filled by none other than Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch.

“Wonder what they’re doing here?” Harriet asked. She felt her eyes narrow involuntarily as they took in Crouch.

“Well, they helped organize the tournament, didn’t they?” Hermione said. “So I suppose they’re here to see it start.”

They finished the first course and moved on to the second, which also had many unfamiliar puddings. Fortunately not all the desserts were that unfamiliar.

“Oh, tiramasuuuuuu,” Hermione groaned.

“Baklavaaaaa,” Harriet added helping herself to some. It looked every bit as delicious as the baklava Dora had sent over the summer.

The room began to quiet down when everyone had eaten their fill. Professor Dumbledore finally rose and the room fell completely silent. At once, the atmosphere went from content and relaxed to electric and excited.

“The time has finally come,” Professor Dumbledore said. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words before we bring in the casket—”

“The what-now?” Marcus muttered.

Everyone shrugged.

“—just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But first and foremost, allow me to introduce—for those who do not know them—Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation—”

There was scattered, polite applause at this, but Mr Crouch did not seem to care.

“—and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

The applause for Bagman was considerably louder than it was for Crouch. Harriet wondered if it was Bagman’s fame as a Beater, or his much cheerier disposition that garnered the warmer welcome.

“Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman have been working tirelessly all summer in arranging the reopening of the tournament, and they will be joining myself, Madame Maxime, Professor Ilves, Professor Cato, and Professor Wengshuk as judges for the tournament.”

Professor Dumbledore turned and beckoned to Filch who was lurking in a corner. “The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch.”

Filch grunted and hoisted up a large wooden crate, carrying it towards Professor Dumbledore. It was encrusted with jewels, yet the wood looked ancient and some of the corners were worn away. Many students rose a little in their seats to get a better look as Filch moved across the hall. Dennis and Colin Creevey actually stood on their seats, their heads barely rising above anyone else’s.

Filch grunted setting down the casket before Professor Dumbledore on the staff table. Professor Dumbledore bowed his head in thanks and continued. “As with previous tournaments, the champions will face three tasks. Each task is designed to challenge the champions in different areas: their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and most importantly their ability to cope with danger.

He paused, taking a few moments to indicate each Headmaster and Headmistress seated at the staff table.

“This year, as opposed to the typical three champions, there will be five. While the tasks themselves will be judged based on how well they perform in each task—the highest score of course being the winner—the champions themselves will be selected by submitting their names to our impartial selector: The Goblet of Fire.”

Professor Dumbledore drew his wand and tapped the top of the casket three times. The door slowly creaked open all on its own. Professor Dumbledore reached inside and drew out a large, wooden cup. Under any other circumstance, the cup would have been unremarkable, except for the bright blue flames that were rising from within. Professor Dumbledore closed the casket and set the cup down on top of it.

“Anyone wishing to submit their names to the Goblet must write their name and school clearly on a piece of parchment and place it into the flames. Aspiring champions have until the start of the Hallowe’en feast on Monday to submit their names. In the meantime, the Goblet will be placed in the Entrance Hall, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing and eligible to compete.

Harriet wasn’t sure if she imagined it or not, but for a split second it felt as if Professor Dumbledore’s gaze rested on the Gryffindor table for a few minutes before he continued, as if to single out the Weasley twins.

“However, to ensure that no underage students give in to understandable temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet.”

“An age line,” Fred hissed under his breath. “Clever…”

“And finally, I wish to impress upon all of you who wish to enter into the Tournament that it is not to be entered lightly. Once a champion is selected, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. Placing your name into the Goblet represents a binding magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are whole-heartedly prepared to participate, before you place your name into the Goblet. Now, our guests have all journeyed far to be here and I’m sure are tired. Therefore, I suggest it is time for bed. Goodnight to you all.”

With another sweeping gesture, Dumbledore gave permission for them to leave. As he turned away, Harriet couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to join such a competition. Her musings were interrupted by Fred, George and Lee’s conversation.

“What you reckon, Fred? Ageing Potion?” Lee Jordan asked as they made their way to the doors to the Entrance Hall.

“Yeah, good chance, Lee,” Fred said thinking hard.

“But I don’t think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,” Hermione pleaded. “We just haven’t learnt enough.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Fred. “Anyone else going to try and get in? You, Harriet?”

Harriet pondered this. Professor Dumbledore had insisted quite strongly that no one under age seventeen enter the tournament. Hermione had a very good point as well. Harriet wondered just how angry Professor Dumbledore would be if someone under seventeen did find a way to enter the tournament. But then, the image of herself standing in front of all the schools having just won the Triwizard Tournament swam to the front of Harriet’s mind in a way that she was sure would linger for a while.

“What about you then, O’Brien?” Fred jibbed, elbowing Kieran in the ribs. “Sleeper champion no one would ever see coming?”

“Oh har, har,” Kieran grumbled. However, as Fred and Lee passed, Harriet noted a sheepish little smile on Kieran’s face.

“Wonder where they’re all staying?” Ronnie asked, looking around at the students from the other schools, her eyes lingering on Krum and the ‘veela-girl’ in particular.

“Come, back to the ship,” Professor Ilves said, as if on cue, as she led the Durmstrang students out of the Great Hall.

It was slow going filing out of the Hall. Students were all gossiping amongst themselves and paying little attention as they moved along. Harriet was distracted as well, watching all the other foreign students when it happened. She grunted as she ran into something. Harriet stumbled back a few steps and looked up.

She had run into the back of a Mount Phoenix girl who was slowly turning to look down at her. The girl was very tall, and powerfully built. Her hair was jet black and just as curly as Hermione’s, though she had it done up in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her skin was the colour of milk-chocolate, though her most striking feature was her eyes. They were such a dark brown that the irises were almost indistinguishable from the pupils in the dim candle-lit hall.

Harriet’s mouth fell open slightly as she looked up at the much taller girl. Her gaze wasn’t piercing like Professor Dumbledore’s or Howe’s. Instead, it was like a stone wall. Without a word, the girl turned and strode off, following the other Mount Phoenix students out of the Entrance Hall and back into the grounds.

“Blimey, anyone else feel a bit chilled?” Ronnie asked.

“Her name’s Aello,” Harriet heard Susan Bones say behind them. “And yeah she’s a bit—”

“Austere,” Ernie Macmillan chimed in. “Makes you feel really, really small when she looks at you.”

“Well, bet her chances are good,” Ronnie said. “Anything threatens her she’s just gotta stare at it, doesn’t she?”

At that moment, Kazunari and the group of Gryffindor girls passed them.

“Honestly,” Dean muttered jealously. “What’s all the fuss with him about?”

“Seems a bit of an idiot if you ask me,” Seamus agreed. “See the way he stumbled walking into the school?”

“He’s very polite and kind,” Hermione said casually. “And if I may say so, he is rather handsome.”

“So what?” Dean and Seamus both said in unison.

“Well he had to be good enough to be chosen as a potential candidate, didn’t he?” Hermione retorted. “Each of the other schools only brought twelve contenders, in case you didn’t notice, but the schools can’t only have twelve of age students, can they? So they must have only brought the best twelve in their school in order to be competitive.”

Dean and Seamus did not seem swayed by this argument as they watched Kazunari give a cheerful wave to the Gryffindor girls and he hurried out of the Entrance Hall after the rest of the Four Nations students.

## * * * *

Everyone was smiling as they made their way up to the castle after the first Hogwarts football match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. They were now going to change for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year to go costume shopping for tomorrow night’s Hallowe’en party.

Harriet had to admit it was the most interesting match she had ever seen. The teams had been fairly well balanced. The members seemed to be divided between muggle-born students who were quite talented, muggle-born students who knew the game well enough to play, and smatterings of half-blood and pure-blood students who were completely unfamiliar with the game but were quite enthusiastic about giving it a try.

“Mind you,” Ronnie said as they discussed the match “it would have been nice if the ball had spent as much time in bounds as it did out.”

“They’ll learn, Ronnie, they’ll learn,” said Hagrid behind them.

They all turned and smiled up at Hagrid’s rosy, beaming face.

“Yeh all looked like yer were ‘avin’ fun and that’s what matters,” Hagrid went on. “Havin’ fun with it will make a whole lot better impression on the rest of the school than playin’ hard.”

“And it helps that you look pretty good in the uniforms too,” Dora said, giving Ronnie a smile.

Ronnie’s jaw fell open and her face went scarlet. Harriet smiled at Dora but the moment Dora’s eyes caught Harriet’s her smile vanished and she looked away. Harriet fought down a sigh as they kept walking. She fished around for a subject to break the awkward silence that had risen.

“So, anyone put their names in yet?” she asked as they stepped into the Entrance Hall and saw the Goblet of Fire sitting on its casket in a corner, the white chalk boundary of the Age Line surrounding it.

“No,” Hermione said. “For all the boasting everyone’s done, it seems a lot of people have gotten cold feet after all.”

“Well, maybe they’re doing it at night?” Kieran suggested.

“Maybe,” Scott said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

They walked in silence for a while until they finally reached the portrait hole. “Balderdash,” Hermione said and they climbed inside.

“Anyone hear anything else about the party tomorrow night?” Marcus asked, looking towards the Gryffindor common room bulletin board where the announcement for the Hallowe’en costume party had been posted.

“I asked Professor Flitwick about it and he said that Rathlin is going to be providing the entertainment,” Hermione said, eagerly.

“Really?” Harriet asked. She felt a tiny jolt of excitement at this. That would mean Professor Howe would probably be there.

“Yes,” Hermione said, smiling with excitement. “He said they’ll have dancers, and they’ll be doing all the decorating, and they’ll have a band too.”

“A band?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes, though he didn’t know what kind of band,” Hermione said.

“Think it’ll be the Weird Sisters?” Ronnie asked.

“I doubt it,” Hermione said. “He said it was a student band.”

“Great,” Ronnie said. “A bunch of wannabes.”

“Oh you don’t know that,” Dora said. “Rathlin’s the best arts school in the magical world and considered one of the best in the Muggle world too. I almost went there, you know? It was there or Beauxbatons or Hogwarts. And one of my old childhood friends studies there—Omigosh! I have to get to the owlery! I have to send an owl and see if she’s coming!”

“You’ll be cutting it close,” Scott said checking his watch. “Average barn owl flies about twenty-five miles per hour and Rathlin’s just under three hundred miles away… so he’ll be there and back in just about twenty four hours; not accounting for weather and a rest in between.”

“Well, either way, Krystelle won’t let me hear the end of it if I don’t ask. I’ll catch up with you all in town, okay?”

Dora hurried off and Ronnie and Marcus both went upstairs to wash up and change before heading into Hogsmeade. Harriet was more excited to see Daniel and Remus again more than anything else. She had sent them thank you notes right away for the jewellery box and mirror but she still wanted to thank them in person.

Half an hour later, Harriet felt a slight spring in her step as they headed down the road to the town. Dora was waiting for them at the edge of town.

“The queue at Daniel’s shop is going to be miserable,” she said as they caught up with her.

“Well, we have all afternoon and evening,” Scott said. “Maybe we could look around the other shops while we wait for the line to run down?”

“Or Harriet could get us in,” Ronnie said slyly.

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Well, Daniel does have a bit of a blind-spot around you,” Marcus chuckled.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Harriet said. “He was _furious_ with me last year when he caught me in Hogsmeade without permission.”

“Well, yes, but to be fair you _were_ in Hogsmeade without permission, and even he still thought Sirius was guilty at the time,” Hermione admonished.

Dora’s prediction about the queue proved to be true. As they waited, Harriet could see the shopkeepers of _Gladrags Wizardwear_ scowling at them all through the front window of their shop.

“Well, they’re the ones who don’t want to expand their business,” Hermione said, matter-of-factly. “Daniel’s just more diversified.”

“Right as always, Hermione,” said a cheerful voice nearby.

Harriet’s face split into a grin and without even looking she turned and sprang up to give Remus a hug. Remus chuckled and awkwardly returned it.

“Thank you so much for the box, Remus!” she said excitedly, it’s beautiful.

“You’re quite welcome, Harriet,” Remus chuckled.

“Did Daniel send you out to find us?” Dora asked, excitedly.

Remus laughed again. “No, as a matter of fact I was taking a quick break to go and get Daniel, Hyland and myself some cold drinks from the Three Broomsticks.”

Dora grumbled, disappointed.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling. “Daniel and I have had months to prepare for this onslaught. There will be plenty of selection left by the time you all get inside.”

“Oh good,” Hermione said, smiling.

“Well, I will let you all get along with waiting then,” Remus said. “See you in the shop.”

It was another twenty minutes before they finally got inside. Remus had been right, the store still overflowed with Hallowe’en items and costumes. Harriet had no idea where to start, and admittedly was spending more time looking around for Daniel than she was genuinely shopping.

“Ah, there’s my girl,” said the all too familiar voice from behind her.

As with Remus, Harriet didn’t need to look before turning to hug Daniel. Daniel laughed and unlike Remus he reached down under her arms and lifted her up into a proper hug, Harriet’s feet dangling about a foot off the ground.

“How’re ya doin’, kid?” Daniel asked, laughing as he set Harriet back down.

“I’m okay,” Harriet said smiling. “Thank you so much for the mirror, honestly I can’t—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Daniel said in a hushed tone, though winking.

He looked around the overcrowded shop, smiling. “So, any idea what you want to go as?”

“Oh, ummm,” Harriet said, looking around as well. “I haven’t really thought about it to be honest, just thought I’d go with whatever struck my fancy.”

“Hmmmm,” Daniel said, nodding thoughtfully though he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. “Well, I might just have something up your street.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked, curiously.

Daniel winked and led her towards the back of the shop. Harriet felt a little awkward at this. The last time she’d been in the back of Daniel’s shop, Daniel had been furious with her.

Daniel opened the door to the back room and Harriet followed him in. It was much tidier now than it was the last time. Harriet also noted that there were two offices now, one labelled _Manager: Daniel Dusk_ and the other _Co-Manager: Remus Lupin_. Harriet smiled as Remus’ door opened and Remus stepped out.

“Mind watching the floor for me a bit, Remus?” Daniel asked cheerfully.

“Ahhhh yes,” Remus said smiling and giving Harriet a knowing wink. “Someone’s getting the special item I see?”

“Seems to be the case,” Daniel chuckled.

Harriet gave Daniel a sceptical look. “‘Might just have something’ huh?” Harriet said.

“Well, maybe it was more something I cooked up after asking your friends for ideas but…” Daniel chuckled awkwardly as Remus headed out onto the shop floor.

“You have to stop giving me stuff like that,” Harriet said.

“Hey, it’s my shop, it’s my merchandise, I can do whatever I want with it,” Daniel laughed. “Besides, the mirror was your father’s so technically that was already yours, Remus made the box himself, and… okay yeah I bought the earrings but come on they were perfect weren’t they?”

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled. “Okay, so what is it?” she asked, starting to feel excited now.

Daniel led her to his office. Harriet felt a prickle of excitement. She’d never been in Daniel’s office before. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The office was plain and rather disorganized. Papers were scattered all over his desk, and notes were pinned all over the walls. There were lists of inventories and shipping manifests and many designs of all sorts of clothing styles.

“Heh, always did like to doodle as a kid,” Daniel said, noticing Harriet studying the designs. “Got in trouble for it all the time in lessons but couldn’t help it.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, curiously.

Daniel laughed. “Yeah. Who the hell you think took the time to actually sit down draw every single inch of the castle and grounds in the Marauders’ Map?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “That was my bit. Remus, James and Sirius did the magic bits, you know, the figures moving about and connecting it with the school to detect people in it and all that.”

Daniel paused and smiled vaguely, looking into space for a moment reminiscing before clearing his throat and continuing. “Anyway, after I resigned as an Auror I needed another job so… I picked one where I could keep doodling.”

“Cool,” Harriet grinned.

Daniel chuckled. “Anyway, here it is,” he said and opened a closet, drawing out some clothes on a hanger, zipped up in a dust cover. He unzipped the dust cover and beamed taking the clothes out. Harriet’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Inside was a green pleated a-line dress with short sleeves, a Peter Pan collar, and a light-grey half vest.

“Oh wow,” Harriet said, walking up and taking the outfit as Daniel held it out to her. She puzzled for a moment looking back up at Daniel. “It’s great—but, I don’t get it?”

Daniel’s grin grew and he knelt in the bottom of the closet. He pulled out a small box. On top of it was a pair of white brogues with matching light-grey toes, heels, and laces, with a pair of white knee socks tucked into them. Daniel set the shoes and socks down on his desk and opened the box. Inside was a notepad with a pencil, a magnifying glass, and a thin silver chain necklace with a tiny magnifying glass charm on it.

“It’s… a Nancy Drew costume,” Harriet said.

Daniel grinned. “Bing—oof!” he grunted as Harriet grabbed him hard in another tight hug.

## * * * *

“Omigosh, you look so adorable!” Lavender said with delight as Harriet stepped into the common room in her costume, just finishing tying her scarf over her scar.

“Thanks, Lav,” Harriet said, flushing and smiling, flaring out the dress’ skirts a bit and turning side to side to give the full effect.

The room was full of people in costumes`. Lavender was dressed in a black shirt with a white spot on her stomach. Parvati walked up, wearing a white shirt with a black spot on her chest.

“What are you two?” Harriet asked curiously.

“We’re yin-yang!” Lavender said cheerfully and she and Parvati stood side by side, putting their arms around each other’s shoulders.

“What a cute idea, you two,” Hermione said, walking up in her Athena costume.

“Thank you, Hermione,” Parvati said beaming. “We got the idea from the Four Nations students.”

Harriet smiled and took in the rest of the room. The rest of her friend were sitting by the fireplace. Scott was dressed as the ‘wanderer’ from an old painting called ‘Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,’ which he said was a favourite painting of his.

Ronnie was wearing a football kit from her favourite team, Nottingham. Marcus was wearing an unsettlingly lifelike hippogriff costume that looked suspiciously like Hagrid’s old hippogriff, Buckbeak, and actually screeched and flapped its wings when you poked the belly.

Kieran had followed Hermione’s lead and was dressed as Hermes, his shillelagh done up to look like Hermes’ staff.

Dora had also arrived. Harriet was surprised to see that all Dora seemed to have done for her costume was put on a tatty old t-shirt and jeans and had coloured her hair dark brown. Emma came over as well, dressed as the character Madeline from a popular Muggle children’s series.

“Wow, Wendy!” Kieran said excitedly as he took in Dora’s costume.

“Oh yeah, cool!” Ronnie agreed.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Wendy the Wandless Witch,” Dora explained matter-of-factly. “Popular magical kids book series about a young witch who’s not old enough to have a wand yet and gets into all kinds of mischief. Sort of a… younger, magical version of Nancy Drew.”

“Ohhhhh, okay,” Harriet said.

“Heh, Kieran used to have a huge crush on her when we were little,” Scott said, grinning at Kieran.

Kieran rolled his eyes though his cheeks went very red. “Oh shut up.”

“ _You_ read Wendy the Wandless Witch?” Dora asked, sounding equally surprised and amused.

“Well, she was smart and brave and kind,” Kieran said shrugging. “And I was eight! It’s allowed isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s about to start,” Scott said, the corners of his mouth twitching as he checked his watch. “Do we want to get there early?”

“Well, it’s only six and it’s on until ten,” Kieran said. “No real hurry.”

“But Krystelle’s going to be there after all!” Dora said, anxiously.

“Okay,” Kieran said smiling. “Let’s go then.”

As they headed down, the castle was alive with noise. At the top of the stairs down into the Entrance Hall, Peeves the Poltergeist rocketed past them, cackling with insane delight.

“All the bright colours and costumes must be putting him in a good mood,” Hermione said knowledgeably.

“Yeah, you could put it that way,” Fred said, walking up to them.

Harriet was hard-pressed to keep herself from crying out with laughter as she took in Fred’s costume. He was dressed as Professor Snape dressed as Neville’s grandmother, complete with a vulture topped hat.

“Where on _earth_ did you get that?” Marcus asked, laughing openly.

“Well, sadly it’s not that original,” Fred said. “Got it at _Dusk to Dawn’s_ , it’s the most popular item. Normally I try not to go along with trends but _come on_!” he exclaimed. “Just look at this thing! How could I not?! No matter how many other people are wearing it!”

They all laughed and followed Fred down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. There was already a sizeable crowd waiting outside the doors to the Great Hall. It was a moving sea of colours as students milled around in their costumes. Harriet spotted George and Erica as they waved Fred over to them.

Harriet raised her eyebrows taking in their costumes. George was dressed as Frankenstein’s monster, while Erica was in a slinky white dress and her hair was frizzed, standing straight up and dyed black and white. That wasn’t the part that was confusing Harriet, however. The part that was confusing her was the big splotch of red on the chest of George’s costume.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked, indicating the spot.

“Eh’ca—th’tole—heart,” George said in a lethargic tone, staring into space.

Erica grinned maniacally and held up an unpleasantly convincing fake heart before bearing her teeth and hissing like an angry cat.

“Seriously…?” Dora asked, looking on incredulously.

“Go’ge—not—using—it...” he said before turning and starting to stomp towards the doors, his arms outstretched, as the doors to the Great Hall finally opened.

Again Harriet and her friends laughed before following him and Erica as the group of waiting students moved into the Great Hall. The Rathlin students had clearly put their all into the event. The enchanted ceiling was darkened, with floating green candles and jack-o-lanterns illuminating the room ominously. Around them swirled swarms of what looked like live bats, until one swooped low enough for Harriet to realize they were actually enchanted black bowties. The walls were draped in black silk that shimmered like stars and all along the walls were chairs. Where every fifth chair would be was a coffin propped up against the wall. The floor was dotted here and there with black, leafless trees that had taps stuck into them in odd places, surrounded by tables and cups.

“Apple cider!” Dean Thomas, wearing a pirate costume, said excitedly as he held a cup under a tap and pressed the lever.

“Wow, the Rathlin students really went all out, didn’t they?” Dora said, inspecting one of the coffins before looking around the sea of students, most likely looking for Krystelle.

Harriet meanwhile was taking in the rest of the room. The staff table had been cleared off of the platform it usually sat on, and instead there was an assortment of instruments; a piano, several guitars—some quite strange looking, a banjo, a fiddle, two foot drums, an accordion, a rack of fifes and flutes, and finally two hand-drums.

Kieran approached the stage, taking the instruments in. “I think it must be an Irish folk band, that’s interesting.”

“How can you tell?” Harriet asked.

“Well, they’ve got some bodhráns,” Kieran said, pointing to the hand-drums. “And an Irish flute.”

“That’s an interesting choice for a Hallowe’en party,” Scott said. “But should be fun all the same.”

At that moment, a boy stepped up onto the stage. Harriet recognized him as the Mount Phoenix boy who looked too young to be a potential champion. He was followed by Professor Cato, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Howe. Harriet noted that none of them seemed to be wearing costumes. Professor Dumbledore was dressed in wizards’ robes, Professor Cato was wearing another Roman-style toga, Professor Howe was wearing his usual style of dress of well pressed slacks, shiny black shoes, a white button up shirt with cravat and a shiny vest. The boy meanwhile was simply wearing a green tee-shirt with red jeans.

Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly and spread his arms wide as he walked up to a microphone.

“Welcome, and happy Hallowe’en! Thank you all so much for joining us for the first annual Hogwarts Hallowe’en Costume Ball!”

The crowd roared with excited applause and Professor Dumbledore smiled around at them, letting them quiet down on their own before continuing.

“I do hope that our guests enjoy the evening’s proceedings as well, Hallowe’en is a much cherished holiday here in Magical Britain, and we hope you will enjoy it as much as we do.”

Harriet looked around at the crowd. It was difficult to tell who was from what school in the varied costumes. Hermione seemed to be thinking the same thing as she scanned the crowd but then she suddenly smiled.

Professor Dumbledore continued. “For the first half of the evening, we will have music provided by Master Marius Basco of Mount Phoenix, a gifted pianist, who will provide us with plenty of atmosphere until eight o clock, at which point the second half of our entertainment will begin, a musical performance by a group of students from Rathlin who have formed a spirited little group called the Ramblin’ Rathlin Rogues, and will allow our esteemed young pianist his own chance to get in on the fun and mix and mingle a bit.”

Marius smiled awkwardly and Professor Cato patted his back.

“And now, without further ado, let the party begin!”

The crowd of students cheered again and the boy stepped behind the piano and sat. He smiled at the crowd and Harriet noted that he smiled with his lips closed as he leaned over the microphone.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Marius and I’m going to lead us off with an old Hallowe’en favourite,” he said smiling and began playing a light, merry melody that Harriet recognized at once as the “Monster Mash.”

Quite a few students seemed to recognize it as well and broke out into laughter and shouts as they moved onto the dance floor. Marius smiled wider but still closed lipped as he played on.

“That’s actually very clever,” Hermione said, leaning in to speak in Harriet’s ear to be heard over the ruckus. “If everyone’s in costumes, we have no way of really knowing exactly who’s from another school. So people have to mingle to find out.”

“Good point,” Harriet replied.

“Shall we?” Hermione said taking Harriet’s arm.

Harriet smiled. “We shall,” she replied and they headed onto the floor.

They didn’t really dance so much as try and find familiar faces. They ran into Scott who had managed to track down Atsuko Makeda and Tomomi Itoh. As with Parvati and Lavender, Atsuko and Tomomi had chosen complimentary costumes, dressed as Velma and Daphne respectively from the old cartoon series, Scooby Doo that Harriet had sometimes managed to watch when Dudley had it on television.

“Snoops united,” Tomomi said cheerfully, taking in Harriet’s costume.

“I know, right?” Harriet laughed.

She didn’t know why, but somehow in the big crowd, Harriet felt more at ease than she had in a while. She wondered if it was something to do with the anonymity she felt. For the first time ever, Harriet felt like she was just a part of the crowd, no different than everyone else as they jostled about and laughed. No one was looking at her scar, or paying any more attention to her than anyone else. She lost track of time as they mingled and even danced as Marius changed from dark Hallowe’en sounding songs to more upbeat songs once more.

“Hey!” Dora said finding them and looking happier than Harriet had seen her in some time.

She was apparently so happy she’d forgotten she wasn’t speaking to Harriet as she pulled another girl into view behind her. The girl was tall and gangly and wearing a black cat costume. She had long brown hair and a very straight, pointy nose and an angular face.

“Harriet, Hermione, this is my friend Krystelle Gandy,” Dora said.

“Nice to meet you,” Harriet said. “Did you help with the decorations?”

“Yeah,” Krystelle said. “I helped do the bowtie bats.”

“Oh yes I saw those!” Hermione said. “You have to tell me what charms you used.”

Krystelle laughed. “Dora said you take magic really seriously,” she said smiling.

“Top in the year since we started,” Harriet said bumping Hermione’s shoulder.

Krystelle smiled looking around the crowd.

“Who’re you looking for?” Dora asked.

“Oh, I’m looking for some of my other friends. Holly’s around somewhere, probably hiding.”

“Holly?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, Holly Cambridge, you might have heard of her. She used to play football until… well…”

“Oh yes,” Hermione said. “That was just awful. How is she?”

“She’s okay,” Krystelle replied. “She still has to use crutches sometimes. And she doesn’t really like crowds and loud noises.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Harriet said.

“What did she work on?”

“The costumes for the dancers,” Krystelle said.

“Dancers?” Harriet asked.

“You’ll see,” Krystelle said winking. “Also keeping an eye out for Finn and Colm.”

“What do they look like?” Hermione asked.

“Well, at the moment I’m not really sure; cuz you know, costumes,” Krystelle said waiving a hand at the rest of the crowd. “But usually Finn’s a curly-headed mountain man and Colm’s his clean cut little brother.”

“What years are they?” Harriet asked curiously.

“Finn’s a sixth year and Colm’s in our year. Finn’s crazy excited to be here, I know.”

“Why’s that?” Dora asked.

Krystelle rolled her eyes. “He’s a Muggle, so getting to come to Hogwarts is a pretty big deal, and to perform here.”

“Perform? Is he in the band?” Hermione asked.

“You could say that,” Krystelle said vaguely. “He’s sort of our big brother—ahhh, there he is, never fails,” Krystelle rolling her eyes.

Harriet followed her gaze and at first thought she meant Scott but then realized she meant the boy that was talking to Scott. The boy was tall and a bit gangly as well, and dressed in an old white shirt, green slacks, a wide-brimmed straw-hat and a wooden pitchfork. Just under the brim of the hat, Harriet could make out curly brown hair and glasses.

“That’s Colm. I don’t know how he does it,” Krystelle said, “he doesn’t even try and he’ll find the cutest guy in the whole place.”

“Who, Scott?” Harriet asked.

“That his name?” Krystelle asked with a laugh. “Well he’s going to be under Colm’s spell tonight.”

“You mean, Colm’s…?” Dora asked.

“Oh yeah,” Krystelle said, grinning.

“Ohhhh,” Harriet said cottoning on. “Heh well, he’s barking up the wrong tree with Scott, I’m afraid.”

Krystelle raised her eyebrows. “Well, that’d be a first.”

“Is he a Muggle, as well?” Hermione asked.

“No, Colm’s a Muggle-born,” Krystelle replied. She was still looking at Scott and Colm deep in thought. “Are you sure Scott’s—”

“KITTY!”

From seemingly nowhere a big green figure sprang towards them and grabbed Krystelle tight around the shoulders in a bear-hug, leaning back and spinning her around.

“ACK! FINN!” Krystelle shrieked. “Put me down!”

“Purdy kitty, I will love her and pet her and call her mine,” the figure said patting Krystelle’s head roughly and speaking in a voice worthy of Crabbe or Goyle at their most gormless.

Krystelle grimaced with each head-pat though Harriet could see the traces of a smile on her face.

“Everyone, this is Finn. Finn, meet my friend Dora and her friends Harriet and Hermione.”

The figure now turned and Harriet could see him clearly. Finn was just as tall as his brother, but looked as though he was twice as wide, with very broad shoulders. He was wearing a green cloak and wide-brimmed hat over a purple suit and eye-mask. He was grinning broadly, a little out of breath from his exuberant entrance as he took them in.

“Charmed,” Finn said, “Finnbar Negus, or just Finn Negus, or Finegus, or Finnbar… But if you’re really lazy, like myself, Finn works just fine.”

Harriet laughed. Now that he was speaking normally, Harriet could hear his voice was rich with an Irish lilt even thicker than Kieran’s. In fact, it took her a moment to process what he’d said.

“That is a _fantastic_ Nancy Drew, by the way” Finn said taking in Harriet’s costume. Harriet could see his eyes through the mask move over her and though she blushed, she felt herself come over a little giggly for some reason.

“Oh, thank you. Daniel, the shopkeeper at _Dusk til Dawn_ in town gave it to me.”

“He _gave_ it to you?” Krystelle asked, surprised.

Harriet’s blush grew. “Yeah, he uh, he’s sort of like a father I guess you could say.”

“That’s too bad,” Krystelle teased. “He’s pretty hot too.”

Harriet spluttered on her cider. “What?”

Krystelle laughed. “Sorry, just teasing. We met him in town today when we were using his shop to make the costumes and such.”

“And oy I know that one,” Finn said pointing at Dora’s costume. “Wendy the Wandless Witch right?”

“Yep,” Dora said. “Impressive, didn’t think a Muggle would know that one.”

“Well I probably wouldn’t,” Finn laughed. “But funny story, we go to school with the girl who played Wendy—well, is played the right word?” Finn asked Krystelle.

“Ummmm, I guess,” Krystelle said. “She was the ‘face’ of Wendy the Wandless Witch, she was on all the covers and stuff.”

“Ooooo, we’ll have to tell Kieran,” Dora said. “He just confessed to having a crush on Wendy when he was a kid.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Well, don’t blame him, though I’d take a bit stronger fancy to her now she’s all grown than back then. Could introduce him after she comes out during the second half.”

“Second half?” Hermione asked.

“Ya, she’s one of the dancers,” Finn said.

“That’s cool,” Dora said. “What _is_ your costume, by the way?”

Finn grinned looking down at his costume before grabbing the hem of his cloak and covering the lower half of his face with it. “The Hooded Claw!” he said, speaking in a nasally, effeminate tone. “Devious villain extraordinaire and arch enemy of Penelope Pitstop and the accursed Ant Hill Mob!”

There was an awkward silence at this.

“Did anyone understand a thing he just said?” Dora asked.

“Oy, watch-it Wendy,” Finn said. “Or I’ll kidnap your friend Nancy there.”

Harriet went very red indeed. Hermione snorted into her cup trying not to laugh as Dora went wide eyed.

“Why her not me?” Dora asked.

Finn winked. “Well, getting kidnapped was sort of Nancy’s thing. Besides, Krystelle told me about you and there’d be no fun wooing to be had there. But Miss Drew perhaps,” he said and doffed his hat, revealing a head of equally curly hair to his brother’s and took Harriet’s hand, bowing low over it and kissing the top.

“That’s a rather gentlemanly act for such a villainous figure,” Hermione said, grinning slightly.

“Ah, what can I say? I’m a sucker for snoops,” Finn said standing back up. “So, Miss Drew, mind if I stole you away for more cider?”

“Okay,” Harriet said. She didn’t know why she’d agreed so quickly but Finn’s smile grew wider and he held out an arm to her.

Harriet looped her arm in Finn’s and together they started over to the nearest cider tree. He was taller than Charlie though of similarly stocky build. Harriet could feel the strength in his arm. Harriet chanced a glance over her shoulder at the others. Hermione and Krystelle were both giving Harriet equally knowing smiles while Dora was scowling openly.

“Hah, sorry if I was a bit, you know, exuberant,” Finn said. He’d slid up the mask now, revealing rosy cheeks and bright, twinkling blue eyes. “Just so excited. I mean… _Hogwarts_ , I get to come to Hogwarts—me, a Muggle—and see all sorts of amazing stuff. Like that giant squid! Yeh’ve got a _giant_ — _bloody_ — _squid_! How cool is tha’?!”

“Don’t you see magic at Rathlin?” Harriet asked.

“Not as much,” Finn said as he filled two more glasses for himself and Harriet. “To be honest, only the primary kids are kept together. The Academy’s a bit more segregated, just because the lessons are so different between magic and non-magic kids.”

“That makes sense,” Harriet said taking her glass.

Finn smiled and leaned against the tree. “So what do I call you? Besides Nancy?”

“Harriet,” she replied.

“Pleasure,” Finn said pleasantly. “I gotta say, I’m not half glad to meet some more normal people for a change.”

Harriet snorted. “Normal?”

Finn chuckled. “Ah, s’pose I better qualify that shouldn’t I? I just mean people who’re people, ya all just go ta school, do your lessons, make friends. Tain’t like that at Rathlin ‘t’all. Well I mean some like Krystelle, Portia and Holly are pretty chill about life but they’re the exception. Most are obsessed with their future careers and becoming famous an’ all that.”

“Are all your friends girls?” Harriet asked. She was unable to keep a note of teasing out of her voice.

Finn simply shrugged, unabashed. “Well I’ve got me mates in the band. Then there’s Colm and Gaius and Don, who just joined us this year. Not sure why Don came to Rathlin, rest of the Yanks like him came here I thought I heard.”

“Don’s American?”

“Ya, he won’t talk ‘bout it much though and we haven’t really wanted ta press him, but I can guess what happened.”

“What’s that?”

“Think he was in one of the camps over there,” Finn said darkly. “The work camps. Horrid things, them, from what I hear.”

Finn smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, doin’ all the talkin’. What ‘bout you and your friends?”

Harriet smiled back. “Well, you’ve met Hermione and Dora. That’s my friend Scott over there talking with your brother.”

“Oh really?” Finn said, giving the two the same look Krystelle had given them but he said nothing more about it.

“Yeah, ummmm, my other friends Kieran, Marcus, and Ronnie should be around here somewhere. We’ve all been best friends since our first year.”

“Cool,” Finn said. “So you’ve got houses here?”

“Yeah, most of us are Gryffindors, except for Dora and Scott.”

“What houses are they in?”

“Slytherin and Ravenclaw. All the houses kinda have reputations. Like, us Gryffindors are all supposed to be brave.”

“S’posed to be brave?” Finn asked raising his eyebrows.

“Well, yeah, we are, it’s a requirement I guess,” Harriet laughed.

“Was gonna say, you walked off to get drinks without a second thought with a bloke you just met who’s dressed as one of the most ineffectual villains of all time, that’s a bit brave if I say so.”

“Well if you’re so ineffectual then what’s to be scared of?” Harriet said back.

Finn laughed loudly again. “Youch, touche Miss Drew.”

Harriet smiled a little, proud of herself. Finn grinned back sipping his cider.

“Shoulda known the intrepid Nancy Drew would defeat me; smart, stylish and beautiful was always my downfall.”

Harriet felt her jaw lock and her eyes widen. Finn gave her a victorious little grin and winked but said no more. Harriet took another sip of her cider to calm herself a bit. No one had ever called her beautiful before that she could remember. But did he really mean her? Or just Nancy Drew in general.

“S-so, you don’t have houses at Rathlin?” she asked.

“Nah,” Finn said. “Well, yes and no. Like we have dorms but we identify ourselves more by major than by dorms.”

“Major?”

“Well like what we study,” Finn explained. “Like I’m a Music major. Everyone has a major and then a focus. So Krystelle, she’s in Liberal Arts and focuses on fashion design. So she was pretty over the moon ta meet Daniel at the shop.”

“Ohhhh I got it,” Harriet said. “So, Krystelle says you’re like everyone’s big brother?”

Finn snorted. “Could say that. Dunno; just try and lookout for everyone. Ma brother and I never ‘ad much growin’ up, what with the Troubles. Folks sent us off to Rathlin when we were kids and well, it’s pretty much been home since,” he said, staring into his cup which was empty once more.

“Oh, sorry,” Harriet said. “I didn’t mean too—”

“Nah, no worries, you’re grand,” Finn said. “Old news. So your man Kieran? Irish too is he?”

“K-Kieran’s not my man!” Harriet spluttered, taken aback. “He’s just a friend, I’m not with any—”

Finn started laughing and waving his hands. “Oh no! No, no Dove! Not what I meant at’tall! It’s just a turn of phrase! Um, hard to explain. Just means like, ‘the person we’re talking about. It’s kinda weird, I know.”

“Oh, s-sorry,” Harriet said lamely. “Um, in that case, yeah, well by birth I guess,” Harriet said. “He lives in Scotland now.”

“Ahhh right,” Finn said. “So um, what are your lessons like here? What does one learn in a school dedicated to Magic?”

Harriet smiled. “Oh all sorts,” she said. “There’s Transfiguration, that’s turning something into something else through magic; Potions, which would be cool except Professor Snape pretends I don’t exist—”

“Find tha’ hard ta believe,” Finn said.

Harriet blinked looking up at Finn. His tone and expression were much softer as he said that than he’d been since they’d met.

“It’s… complicated I guess,” Harriet said, not sure what else to say about it. “Ummm, then there’s Charms, History of Magic, Muggle Studies—”

“Wait, you lot have a class all about studying us?” he asked.

“Well, y-yeah,” Harriet said awkwardly. “It’s really cool though. We’ve just finished learning about springs.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Springs?”

“Mmhmm.”

“That seems… I don’t even know what to say about that,” Finn laughed.

“It’s a lot more involved than you’d think,” Harriet said. “Like we had to learn all about Hooke’s Law, how the force needed to extend or compress a spring by any distance is proportional to that distance.”

“Yeah, okay you lost me already,” Finn said. “You win, hah!”

He looked up at the stage as Marius began to play a slower, tenderer song. Finn looked at his watch, furrowing his brow and thinking hard.

“Gotta go on soon,” he said sounding regretful. “Mind if—um, we have a dance before I start?”

“Dance?” Harriet asked, taken aback. “With me?”

"Well, I was gonna head back outside and ask the giant squid, but if you insist,” Finn teased.

Harriet rolled her eyes and felt her cheeks get very warm again.

“Sorry,” Finn chuckled but held out a hand and bowed again. “M’lady, could I have this dance?”

Harriet’s cheeks remained flushed but she took his hand. Finn smiled leading her out onto the dance floor. The crowd had thinned a bit, mostly couples in slow, rocking embraces. Harriet noted Hermione and Marcus dancing, looking a little ludicrous as they stayed at arm’s length, and Marcus kept having to apologize for hitting people with his wings.

She spotted Kieran, Scott, Dora and Ronnie sitting in four chairs between two coffins. Ronnie gave Harriet two thumbs up, grinning. Dora was still scowling while Kieran and Scott were simply looking awkward as Finn placed a hand on either side of Harriet’s waist. Harriet put her hands on Finn’s shoulders and they began moving with the music. Meanwhile, Harriet’s mind went into overdrive.

 _What am I doing?_ Harriet thought to herself as she looked up at Finn’s smiling face. _What am I doing, what am I doing, what am I doing? I just met this guy now I’m dancing with him? I’ve never danced before—oops that was his toe._

“Sorry,” Harriet said grimacing.

“Hah, no worries, takes a bit more’n that, dove,” Finn said.

Harriet nodded and her mind started running again. _But he called me beautiful. Or did he? He just called me_ dove _too? He did, twice… is that a good thing? Maybe he’s just interested in me because I’m famous. Wait, does he even know who I am? I never told him my last name, did I? But it’s not like I’m ever gonna see him again after tonight. Rathlin’s not in the tournament, they’re just here for the party. So why shouldn’t I just enjoy myself and be in the moment and be having fun? But he seems so nice, and Dora’s friend said he was like a big_ —

“Are you okay?” Finn asked, drawing Harriet out of her thoughts.

“O-oh yeah,” Harriet said. “Sorry, just, a lot on my mind all the sudden.”

“Can I ask?” Finn asked.

“It’s nothing,” Harriet said quickly. “Just…”

“You’ve never done this before?”

Harriet shook her head. Finn chuckled and shrugged. “Me either, to be honest… I’m usually on stage at parties, so I don’t get to do stuff like this ever, but… I’ve always wanted to, and you seem really nice, and cool, so… thanks.”

Harriet flushed once more and smiled.

Just then the song ended and Marius rose from behind the piano. Everyone broke into applause as he bowed.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Finn said. He looked a little reluctant. “Gotta go change.”

“Not performing in costume?” Harriet asked.

“Well, yes and no. Not this one, leastwise. Anyway, maybe we’ll have a song or two for you,” he said, with another stab at his original bravado.

“I’d… yeah, I’d like that,” Harriet said.

Finn smiled and headed off, disappearing into the crowd.

“Soooooooo?” cooed a voice in Harriet’s ear.

Harriet turned to see Ronnie grinning ear to ear.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Who was that?” Ronnie asked. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Uhh, Finn. Finn Negus. He’s a friend of one of Dora’s friends.”

“Oooooo,” Ronnie grinned if possible wider. “Gonna keep in touch?”

“I don’t know, Ronnie, I just met him.”

“And danced with him.”

“He asked! He… he was nice and asked nicely so—”

Ronnie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“B-besides, he’s a Muggle,” Harriet said. “How would we keep in touch anyway?”

“You _do_ know owls can deliver to Muggle houses, right?” Ronnie said raising both her eyebrows high.

“Oh,” Harriet said lamely. “Yeah…”

“So, what’s he like, what year is he?” Ronnie pressed incessantly.

“He’s… he’s nice. He’s funny, he’s… um he’s a sixth year. He has a brother in our year.”

Ronnie opened her mouth to ask more questions when there was the strumming of a guitar from the stage. Harriet looked back at the stage and felt her eyes go wide. Finn wasn’t just in the band. He was standing centre stage with the guitar at the centre microphone. He had changed out of the green cloak and purple suit and was now wearing a white button up shirt with a black vest, charcoal slacks and black boots. He was joined by three other boys dressed similarly. Finn adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat.

“Good evenin’, Hogwarts!” Finn said smiling. “A million thanks fer havin’ us, we’re the Ramblin’ Rathlin Rogues. I’m Finnbar Negus, and my mates Dusty Sheehan, Mike O’Hannrachain, and Tadhg McConnell.”

“Finnbar?” Ronnie snorted.

“Oh shut up,” Harriet said.

“Some of you may know this one, it’s an old favourite and kinda appropriate to tonight, and one that’ll start us off dancin’ which I know ya all like.”

The crowd of students cheered.

“So, put ya hands t’gether as we kick things off with _The Irish Rover_!”


	16. The Champions

“No one is prepared for everything. Even the wisest and the cleverest of us can be outwitted by the equally wise and clever, but even more so by simple acts of fate.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet kept staring at the stage. She was clapping along as if on auto-pilot with the rest of the crowd. Finn was singing a merry, if slightly ridiculous song about a ship called the _Irish Rover_.

 

_We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags_

_We had two million barrels of stone_

_We had three million sides of old blind horses’ hides_

_We had four million barrels of bones_

_We had five million hogs and six million dogs_

_Seven million barrels of porter_

_We had eight million bales of old nanny goats’ tails_

_In the hold of the Irish Rooooooooover!_

 

“Not bad,” Ronnie said nodding in approval.

“He never told me he was the lead…” Harriet managed to say.

They broke into applause as the first song finished. Finn was distractedly strumming a bit, twisting the little nobs and muttering when the boy he’d called Tadhg, who was playing the banjo, bumped Finn’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

“Oy Finn-man,” Tadhg said looking around the room. “Ya gonna keep ‘em locked away all night?”

Finn gave an overdramatic and not overly convincing look of shock. “Great Scott, yer-right, Tadhg!” he exclaimed then looked out on the audience which had gone rather quiet.

“What? I’m a singer not an actor!” he declared which caused a ripple of laughter to move over the crowd.

Finn grinned wider. “Well, no use for it then, let us all introduce our infamous dancing skeletons!”

At that moment, all of the candles went out except for the jack-o-lanterns plunging the hall into darkness. The only light the glowing green faces of the hovering jack-o-lanterns. There was the sound of creaking, and Harriet realized that all the coffin doors had opened. There were shrieks and calls of shock from around the edges of the room and Harriet gasped. There were indeed skeletons moving towards them. White, glowing skeletons, draped in old, tattered clothing that she could just make out in the dim light of the jack-o-lanterns and their own glowing bones.

Yet, something about the skeletons wasn’t right. They looked two dimensional, and it was then that Harriet realized what was going on. They weren’t skeletons at all, they were dancers painted as skeletons.

“Ahhhh there we are, aren’t they lovely?” Finn’s bandmate Dusty said.

“Tha’ they are, Dust, tha’ they are,” said the one called Mike as Tadhg wolf-whistled.

“Oh get stuffed the lot of you,” said one of the dancers. Harriet thought she recognized the voice somehow.

“Thanks, Portia,” Finn laughed.

Harriet’s eyes went wide and she gripped Ronnie’s arm. “Ronnie, that’s Portia, that’s the girl we met in the woods after the Cup.”

“Oh yeah!” Ronnie said. “Cool!”

“Well, nothing for it lads, they got all prettied up for us, might as well give them something to do,” Finn said, sighing melodramatically. “Whatcha think? Give ‘em a few jigs and reels?”

“I say the _Moher Reel_ ,” Tadhg said eagerly picking up the fiddle.

They began to play and the dancers moved into motion at once. It was surreal watching them, because they still only looked like skeletons moving across dance floor. The fact that the bones were painted only on the fronts and backs of the dancers was even more unsettling as it meant the skeletons seemed to shrink and grow again, as if vanishing and springing in and out of existence.

“Is impressive.”

Harriet turned. It was the Mount Phoenix boy, Marius Basco. He was standing with Atsuko and Tomomi, both of whom were smiling excitedly and gesturing to Harriet. At that moment, it hit Harriet that Marius was in fact wearing a costume. Now that she saw all three of them together, she recognized Marius’ costume as that of Shaggy from the same show, _Scooby Doo_.

“Harriet!” Atsuko said. “Isn’t this such a coincidence? We were just talking to Marius about how funny it is that we picked costumes from the same show.”

Marius simply shrugged and ran a hand over his hair. “I do not know,” he said. “He was always funny, and made me laugh much. And I have always wanted a dog.”

Marius smiled at Atsuko. “It is funny however that the taller of you is Velma and the shorter is Daphne.”

The two girls laughed more and Tomomi tossed her reddish hair. “Oh ask anyone around here, these costume choices are _totally_ appropriate for us.”

“You are a Ravenclaw, though, Tomomi dear,” Atsuko said. “You have that on Daphne.”

“Good point,” Tomomi smiled brighter.

“Are you a Muggle-born too?” Ronnie asked.

Marius’ eyes went wide for the briefest of moments and he suddenly looked even more awkward than before. “Uh, n-no, I am a—uh—Half-blood, I think is how you put it. My father is a wizard but my mother was not.”

There was a brief, awkward silence as everyone registered the ‘was.”

“Where’d you learn to play so well?” Tomomi asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, my father always told me that it was one of my mother’s wishes that I learn to play some kind of instrument. So I decided on piano.”

“How does he like your piano playing?” Ronnie asked.

“Oh, he-he loves it,” Marius said.

“Hey you lot!”

It was Scott. He had reconnected with Colm and now that they were close-up, Harriet could see Colm’s face plainly. He and Finn did not look especially alike, outside of both having curly hair and blue eyes. She supposed their noses were similar too.

He didn’t quite seem like how Krystelle had made him sound, either. Harriet had come away with the impression that Colm was a bit of a smooth talker but she was surprised. He seemed quite subdued and relaxed, even a bit aloof.

“This is Colm,” Scott said. “Top in his year at Rathlin and same year as us. He’s a Theatre major with a focus in radio production.”

“Radio production?” Tomomi asked.

“Oh yes,” Colm said. “You know, radio programs and announcements; that type of thing.”

_He has the voice for it_ , Harriet thought as she listened. His voice was deep for their age and smooth, yet with crisp, clear annunciation. Not a single tone was harsh or rough in any way, and unlike his brother, Finn, Harriet had no trouble understanding anything Colm said.

“Hah, gotta be careful,” Ronnie said. “With a voice like that, if Hermione hears you she’ll hook you into S.P.E.W. and make you give radio broadcasts on the plight of house elves.”

“I’m sorry?” Colm asked, with polite confusion.

“Don’t ask…” Scott said.

“So, you’re Finn’s brother?” Harriet asked, changing the subject.

“Oh yes,” Colm smiled. “Saw you dancing with him. That was quite nice of you. Haven’t seen him smile that much in ages. Which is saying something because as far as I can tell Finn is incapable of doing anything but smile.”

Harriet thought about this. She remembered the look on Finn’s face when they ended up on the subject of Finn and Colm’s parents. He certainly had not been smiling then.

“Is that…” Atsuko said, dragging Harriet out of her thoughts as she studied Colm’s costume. “Is that from _The Hay Wain_ by Constable?”

“That’s what I thought!” Scott said eagerly. “But no, it’s even better!”

Colm blushed a bit but laughed. “It’s a bit obscure I’m afraid… it’s _Graham Chapman_ from _Monty Python_ dressed as the man from _The Hay Wain_ by Constable. From the twelfth episode of the second series of _Flying Circus_. The sketch where all the subjects of the most famous pieces of art go on strike?”

There was an awkward silence at this as clearly no one else understood the reference.

“Heathens,” Scott chuckled teasing.

Atsuko rolled her eyes. “The show hasn’t been on the air since before we were born!”

“I am… lost completely,” Marius admitted.

“It’s a British thing,” Tomomi said.

“Well, Graham Chapman was a hero of mine as a kid. Still is,” Colm explained before turning and holding a hand out to Marius. “Most excellent playing by the way. Your Chopin’s Sonata Number 2 in B-flat minor was most excellent.”

“You know Chopin?” Marius asked, sounding impressed and much more excited as they shook hands and the conversation moved into more familiar waters.

Colm waved a hand dismissively. “Oh no, please don’t give me that much credit. I often do MC duties at concerts back at Rathlin. So I’ve learned a whole bunch of songs by mental osmosis, if you will. But after all, isn’t the saying: ‘Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life’?” he went on, giving Scott a significant look.

“Berthold Auerbach,” Scott said almost automatically.

Colm’s lips twitched. “Yes… I’m gonna have to keep thinking up harder ones.”

“Oh come on, Auerbach invented the tendency novel… but I’m ready for them when you are,” Scott replied, his own eyes twinkling.

“Well, I got you with the costume.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Scott admitted. “Well played.”

Colm turned back to Marius. “Incidentally, you’re more than talented enough to study at Rathlin, how come you didn’t go there?”

“Ah, uh, well, through my father I sort of already had a place at Mount Phoenix,” he said awkwardly.

“Where are you from, then?” Atsuko asked him, interested.

“Uh-Romania,” Marius said “by birth, but we live in Italy now.”

“Really?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes?” Marius replied. “Why?”

“Well, you just don’t really look—you know—Romanian.”

Harriet fought hard to keep herself from elbowing Ronnie’s ribs.

Marius’ forehead twitched and he took another sip of his own cider. “Well, my mother was… my father is not. And I suppose on the outside I took more after him,” he replied.

He was looking around now, as though searching for something else to talk about.

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, that’s always a rousing number. Now then, how about we try something with a bit more audience participation?”

Everyone turned back to the stage. Finn was grinning, taking a drink of water and walking back to centre stage.

“This is an old favourite of mine, and I’m sending it out to a certain Miss Drew out in the audience… as I think it fits her a bit.”

Harriet felt herself go very red indeed as everyone turned to look at her.

“She’s an old number but a classic, and I think we’re gonna put a fun twist on it.”

As Harriet watched, all of Finn’s bandmates gave him very apprehensive looks. He grinned at them.

“ _Star of the County Down_ , lads?” he asked. “Y’all know the tempo, let’s start it off slow and pick up the pace as we go and see who can keep up?”

“Ohhhh,” Dusty said and grinned too. “Yer on, mate.”

“Grand,” Finn said and looked out over the crowd. “Portia, want in on the fun?”

Portia walked towards the stage and stepped up onto it. As she did, Harriet heard the clicking of her shoes on the wood of the stage and realized she was wearing tap shoes.

“Christ, got those on fast didn’yeh?” Finn said, looking at Portia’s shoes as well.

“Magic,” Portia replied simply.

“Cheater,” Finn muttered, causing another wave of laughter to spread across the crowd.

Harriet didn’t share the amusement. Instead, she felt her smile falter and her grip on her cup tightened a bit as she listened to Finn and Portia’s banter.

She was distracted again as Mike began to beat out a rhythm on one of the bodhráns and Finn began to sing. They were indeed starting out quite slow; smooth and flowing. Harriet did her best to clap along, still holding her magnifying glass and empty cup in each hand.

 

_Near Banbridge town, in the County Down_

_One morning last July_

_Down a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín_

_And she smiled as she passed me by._

_Oh she looked so sweet from her two bare feet_

_To the sheen of her jet black hair_

_Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself_

_To be sure I was really there._

 

Then they hit the chorus and at once picked up the pace. Despite the increase in speed, the tapping of Portia’s shoes easily kept pace. She was smirking at Finn more and more confidently and as she did, Harriet felt her collar get tighter and tighter.

They hit the second chorus and once more the speed increased. The clapping began to break up and got quieter and quieter as people in the crowd gave up trying to keep pace.

 

_She’d soft green eyes and a look so shy_

_And a smile like a rose in June_

_And she sang so sweet what a lovely treat_

_As she lilted an Irish tune_

“Wow, that does sound like you,” Ronnie said as they clapped along.

“Well, except the singing…” Harriet muttered.

 

_At the Lambuth dance I was in the trance_

_As she whirled with the lads of the town_

_And it broke my heart just to be apart_

_From the star of the County Down_

 

Harriet flushed even more as Finn’s eyes found her and he gave her a little wink.

Then, they hit the third chorus, and they started going even faster. At this point, only Portia and Finn were left for the final verse. Harriet’s eyes went wide as they entered the fourth chorus. Finn’s lips and Portia’s shoes sounded more like duelling machine guns than anything else as the words poured out of Finn’s mouth as if one giant strung together word.

 

_AndfromBantryBayuptoDerryQuayAndfromGalwaytoDublintownNomaidI'veseenlikethebrowncailínThatImetintheCountyDown_

 

The song ended and both Finn and Portia leaned against microphone stands, both breathing heavily and laughing. The crowd whooped and applauded as Finn took one of Portia’s hands and raised it in the air as one would a boxer at the end of a match. Harriet crossed her arms, sniffing and turning away from the stage.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” said a voice behind Harriet.

She turned and saw that Krystelle had found her once more. She was grinning at the stage almost hungrily.

“I’m sorry?” Harriet asked.

“Finn’s got nothing Portia’s interested in,” Krystelle said. “They just go way back as friends and have always been a bit competitive with each other.”

“O-okay,” Harriet said.

“Plus, he’s my friend and if I thought he was the kind of prat who’d dedicate a song to a girl and then flirt with another right in front of her I’d be the first one on stage breaking his nose.”

Krystelle smiled gently and gave Harriet’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Harriet, meanwhile, thought she understood exactly why Dora and Krystelle had kept their friendship going despite hardly ever seeing each other.

“Besides, I’m guessing you don’t know the real words to that song?” Krystelle asked.

“No?”

“Well, do yourself a favour and look them up,” Krystelle said and winked enigmatically. “That song was more about you than you know.”

“Oh, okay,” Harriet said awkwardly.

Abruptly, Krystelle spun on Colm and gave him a very serious look. “And there you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You. Me. We have to talk. Now,” Krystelle said.

Krystelle didn’t sound angry, more urgent, almost upset. Colm spluttered, taken aback as Krystelle grabbed his arm and purposefully pulled him away from the group.

“Wonder what that’s about?” Ronnie asked.

“Dunno,” Harriet replied, watching as they stopped just far enough away that Harriet could not hear the hushed, urgent conversation.

“I’ll um, I’ll just get some more to drink,” Harriet said and headed off.

She moved in the direction of one of the trees at first, then dodged through the crowd, coming up behind Krystelle and Colm, keeping her back to them as she listened in.

“We can’t tell her that,” Colm said, pleading. “She never gets to have fun like this and if she finds out she’ll freak out and she’ll be so mad at Finn.”

“It’s not _her_ fault your brother doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut when he’s happy,” Krystelle said. “We have to at least tell her so she can get out of here before people try and corner her.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. Were they talking about the Wendy girl?

“I… well… okay… we’ll tell her just before the end so she can keep having fun before she gets away,” Colm said reasonably.

“But what if they recognize her first!” Krystelle insisted, sounding even more worried.

“Krys, who’s going to recognize her like this?” Colm said waving a hand at the dancers. “It’s almost pitch-black in here and her face is painted like a glowing skull.”

“Well, okay,” Krystelle said, hugging her arms tight around her chest, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “But the moment the boys get to their last song we have to get her out of here.”

“Agreed.”

“Ahhh, Miss Drew,” said a deep, casual voice, calling Harriet back to herself. “Snooping as always.”

Harriet flushed looking up slowly into Professor Howe’s face. He was grinning a casual, if knowing smile.

“P-Professor Howe,” Harriet stammered. “I-I was just—”

“So,” Professor Howe said, turning and smiling up at the stage as Finn and his band went into another song. “How do you like the entertainment?”

“Oh, uh yes sir, it’s excellent,” Harriet replied, both relieved and surprised that Professor Howe had let the subject drop so quickly.

Professor Howe said no more so Harriet decided to ask some questions that had been on her mind.

“Sir? How come Rathlin isn’t a part of the tournament?” Harriet asked.

Professor Howe smiled down at her. “Well, you’re looking at the reason,” he said turning to look at the stage once more.

“Sir?”

“Well, it would be rather unfair of me to enter my school in a tournament that would not be open to all my students of eligible age, wouldn’t it?” Professor Howe said.

“Oh, yes that’s true,” Harriet said. She looked around at the stage and dancers. “But then why do the entertainment and stuff?

“Because that was something all my students could equally take part in, regardless of their birth,” Professor Howe replied simply.

“Ohhhh, that makes sense too,” Harriet said.

Professor Howe continued to smile. “Well, it seems as though some of your friends are looking for you. I will let you get on with your evening, Harriet.”

Professor Howe turned and moved off into the crowd. Harriet turned back around and saw that both Colm and Krystelle had vanished. In their place was Kieran, Marcus, and Hermione.

“Goodness,” Hermione said as they reached her. “You know, I never thought such events could really be all that fun but you know, I’m actually having a very good time.”

“Me too,” Harriet said.

She meant it. Despite the awkward moment leading her to do a bit of eavesdropping, she was having a fantastic time. She looked at Kieran who was looking around and smiling.

Kieran had liked Wendy, and here was the chance to meet ‘her,’ but based on what she’d overheard from Krystelle and Colm, the girl didn’t actually want to meet anyone anyway. She would have thought this sounded a bit stuck-up, but somehow based on how worried Krystelle was, Harriet didn’t think so.

At that moment, Finn’s band switched to a slower song. Once more, the crowd began to pair off and moved into another slow dance.

“Hey, Harriet.”

Harriet turned to see Fred. He looked as though he was thinking very hard and finally he made up his mind and held out a hand.

“Want to dance?” Fred asked.

Harriet looked up at him. He looked at once determined and a little angry. Harriet apprehensively held out a hand to him. Fred took it and pulled Harriet close and they moved into a very stiff dance.

“Fred?” Harriet asked as they moved closer to the stage.

“Sorry,” Fred said, and his tension seemed to lessen as they passed the stage.

Despite seeming more relaxed, Harriet couldn’t help but notice him give the stage a dirty look. Harriet looked up at Finn and saw him looking back. He looked quite taken aback as he looked back at Fred’s cold look. Harriet looked back at Fred.

“Fred?” she asked again.

“Yes?” Fred responded, curtly.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked. “You don’t seem yourself.”

Fred stopped dancing and sighed. He glared and this time he didn’t look at the stage. Instead, he looked across the dance-floor. Harriet followed his gaze and saw Ludo Bagman dancing with Professor Vector. Fred started dancing again.

“It’s nothing,” he said, moving more slowly and a bit more calmly. “Just… not as great a night as I’d hoped.”

“I’m sorry…” Harriet said.

“It’s okay,” Fred replied. “My fault I guess…”

“Your fault?”

Fred didn’t respond. They continued dancing in silence for the rest of the song. Finn followed up the next song with another slow song. As they danced, Fred’s tension seemed to slacken off.

“Sorry,” he said finally. “Just… I’ve been questioning a lot of things lately, decisions I’ve made, questioning my judgement. I’ve never done that before, and it has me on edge… really on edge…”

Harriet nodded. “It’s okay… just not used to seeing you like that…”

“Sorry…” Fred said again. He looked and sounded as though he really meant it.

The song ended and Finn’s band picked up another faster song. Harriet felt a bit of relief as George and Erica managed to track Fred down and began talking to him merrily. Harriet, feigning thirst, managed to get away. She had never seen Fred act like that before. Sure, she’d seen him upset before, like last summer with the fall-out over Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. But this time it had seemed different. The look he’d bent on Finn as they’d passed the stage had been almost malicious. It wasn’t the Fred she knew, and while she had accepted his apology, it still unsettled her.

She passed the stage again and paused. Finn was kneeling at the edge of the stage, talking to Krystelle. Krystelle was talking rapidly, her face stern. Even though Harriet couldn’t hear her, Harriet could tell that she was giving him a reprimand. Finn grimaced, looking ashamed of himself. Krystelle’s expression softened as Finn took out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote something down on it and handed it to her. Krystelle took it from him before walking off into the crowd again.

Harriet watched as Finn moved back to the microphone and took up his guitar once more.

“Ugh, can you believe they did this to us,” said a snide voice from nearby.

Harriet looked around to see Pansy Parkinson, Pixie Fanfarró and Blaise Zabini standing nearby in a corner. They were scowling at Finn and muttering amongst themselves loudly. Harriet felt herself get hot under the collar once more. She knew exactly what they were talking about.

“I feel so unclean,” Zabini said. “I mean really, this is our holiday and they let one of _his_ kind in here to _entertain_ us…”

“Might have to write to mother to send one of our house-elves to give the castle an extra-thorough cleaning after this,” Pixie snorted derisively.

“Yes, but then you’d have to get a new house-elf,” Pansy sniggered.

Pixie shrugged dismissively. “No big loss.”

Harriet burned. She began storming over to the three, drawing her wand but another voice stopped her.

“Yeah, what’s the life of another living thing worth anyway?”

Harriet saw a girl she didn’t recognize approaching the three from the shadows of the corner. She was dressed in a doctor’s lab-coat though she was wearing what looked like a black and red jester’s costume underneath, and was wearing a big blonde wig with two ponytails on the sides, while her face was painted white. Harriet also noted that she was leaning heavily on a crutch.

“Who are you?” Pansy asked.

The girl smirked unpleasantly. “Holly Cambridge. Yeah, _that_ Holly Cambridge, and that’s my friend you’re talking about.”

“Hmph,” Pixie snorted tossing her hair. “And why should we care about what a Mudblood like you thinks?”

Holly raised her wand to the ceiling. “I helped make the ‘bats,’” she said simply.

Blaise, Pixie and Pansy all looked up slowly. At that moment, one of the flocks froze and dove straight down at the three. Pansy and Pixie shrieked as the bat bow-ties began flapping around their heads and running into them. Harriet laughed, as did a great deal of the students.

Harriet returned her attention to Holly who was breathing heavily but looking very satisfied with herself.

“Holly!” said Krystelle, hurrying up to the girl.

“Served them right!” Holly spat. “Did you hear them? What they were saying about Finn?! They’re foul!”

“Holly, Holly calm down you’ll hurt yourself again,” Krystelle said, guiding Holly back towards a chair.

Holly was still scowling and grumbling to herself. Harriet was looking around once more, scanning the crowd. Despite how upset she was over what she’d overheard, she felt she had to tell Ronnie at least that Holly Cambridge was here and that Harriet had found her.

“Hey, Harriet.”

Harriet turned back around to see Krystelle had found her. Krystelle was holding out the piece of paper that Finn had handed her.

“Finn wanted you to have this, in case he didn’t get to talk to you after the party,” Krystelle said.

Harriet took it, reading.

 

_Nancy (Harriet),_

_Sorry, didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Looks like I got him a bit steamed. Hope it won’t cause much of a ruckus, I just thought you said you weren’t with anyone. Thanks very much for tonight though, I still had a lot of fun._

_Finn_

 

Harriet felt a swell of panic.

“Oh no! Fred isn’t my boyfriend! I don’t know what was going on with Fred tonight—”

“I know!” Krystelle said raising her hands in alarm. “Finn’s just… he’s more shy than he seems and he’s not exactly good at this stuff. I’ll tell him. Anyway, he’ll probably be busy packing up after the party so… if you want to write him, just write to Finn Negus, N-E-G-U-S, at Rathlin Academy. Your owl should find him.”

Harriet nodded slowly. “I will… ummm… I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Has Dora ever told you, you know, who I—”

“That you’re Harriet Potter?” Krystelle laughed. “Of course.”

“Oh, okay…” Harriet glanced at the stage. “Does Finn know?”

Krystelle grinned at the stage with twinkling eyes. “Yeah, not a clue.”

“Would… would he be mad if he knew?”

Krystelle snorted. “Finn? Nah.”

“Well, he said he liked being around normal people and how almost all the girls at Rathlin are obsessed with being famous.”

Krystelle rolled her eyes. “Harriet, do you _want_ to be famous?”

“Well… no…” Harriet admitted.

“There you go then,” Krystelle said.

Harriet finally allowed herself a little smile. “So, you’re the one who really looks out for everyone, aren’t you?” she asked.

Krystelle smiled tossing her hair a bit looking up at Finn on the stage. “Well, Finn’s the big brother who tries to make everyone happy. I’m the little sister who makes sure he succeeds.”

Harriet laughed and Krystelle smiled before heading back off to Holly in the corner.

## * * * *

It was one in the morning. Harriet was tired but she couldn’t help it as she sat at the table in the common room, opening her jewellery box. She’d wanted to speak to Sirius much earlier, but it had taken ages for everyone to wind down enough to go to bed, and she didn’t want to risk someone walking in on her in the dorm.

“Sirius?” she asked.

Nothing happened.

“Sirius?” she asked louder.

There was some snorting and grunting and Sirius’ face loomed into view in her mirror. His hair was as messy as it was they day she’d met him and his eyes were half-open.

“Yeah, aye yeah I’m up, I’m up,” Sirius said.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Harriet said.

“Nah I’s fine,” Sirius muttered, sounding more awake. “How was the party, kiddo?”

“It…” Harriet trailed off, trying to assess the whole party in her mind. “It was actually pretty great.” She admitted.

“Really?” Sirius said, smiling and sounding pleased. “That’s great.”

Harriet smiled brighter. “Yeah, I mean… some awkward moments but on the whole, I had a really, really good time. I… I talked to people… I laughed… I danced… I—”

“Lived?” Sirius suggested.

Harriet bit her lip, feeling her smile grow.

“That’s great, kiddo,” Sirius said, his own smile growing. “Make any new friends?”

“Well…” Harriet thought. “Yes and no? I met some interesting new kids from Rathlin anyway.”

“Oh really?” Sirius asked with interest. “Any _boys_ by any chance?”

Harriet spluttered. “H-how did you know?!”

Sirius laughed his bark-like laugh. “Well I was just teasing you but now that you’ve admitted that much you have to fill me in. And I suggest you sell him well because if he’s not good enough for you I’ll have to straighten him out once I’m free.”

Harriet flushed and scowled. “Very funny. His name’s Finn… and he’s a Muggle.”

“ _Really_?” Sirius asked, sounding even more interested now. “Do tell!”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing big, just… we chatted a bit and… okay we danced…”

“That rapscallion!” Sirius declared before clearing his throat and speaking much more calmly. “Sorry, go on.”

In spite of herself, Harriet laughed. She went into all the details of the night, Sirius listening and interjecting and teasing her wherever he seemed to think appropriate. However, as the talk went on, something else kept weighing on Harriet’s mind.

“So… you really think this is going to work?” Harriet asked. “You’re really going to be cleared?”

Sirius chuckled. “Well, I won’t lie to you, kiddo… Fudge and Crouch are doing their best to throw in wrenches. Well, Crouch was doing his best to anyway. He seems to have backed off with the opening of the tournament.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, which is very strange, if you ask me… Crouch takes his reputation very seriously. Me getting let off would be a huge blow to that. But since the start of the school year he has hardly paid the slightest attention to the case. It’s curious… but I have bigger things on my plate than figuring out what he’s up to. Remus thinks he’s trying to keep his head down and distance himself from the case as much as he can in the event I do get off.”

Harriet grimaced and Sirius’ smile softened. “It’s going to be fine, Harriet. Daniel is testifying again tomorrow. He’s offered to take Veritaserum in front of the whole Wizengamot about what happened that night and what was discussed, and apparently Albus is providing something to examine Daniel’s memories of the night in more detail.”

“Why just Daniel? What about Remus?”

Sirius glowered. “Albus and Sherrod think that Fudge and his cronies will use Remus’ condition against him in the press to turn public opinion again. Sherrod might have been able to get Rita Skeeter on our side, but she’s not the only influential voice out there. That and Rita’s got a bit of a dark streak where it comes to part-humans…”

Harriet bit her lip. “Yeah… Ronnie’s brother Percy said that she was calling for ‘stamping out vampires.’”

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. “Good luck to her. Anyway, you should get some sleep, Harriet. I’m glad to hear you had such a great night.”

“I really did,” Harriet smiled brighter.

“Gonna write him?”

Harriet blushed and looked down at the note from Finn beside her on the table.

“Yes.”

## * * * *

Harriet yawned and stretched as they headed down to the Entrance Hall. Classes were cancelled for the day, but everyone was excited to see who was going to finally put their names into the Goblet of Fire. Most eligible students had put off entering until this morning it seemed. There was a crowd gathered around the Goblet. Harriet and her friends joined them.

“Who all have put their names in?” Marcus asked.

“All the Durmstrang lot,” said a third-year Ravenclaw girl. “Apparently Four Nations and Beauxbatons put theirs in last night. Haven’t seen anyone from Hogwarts yet, though.”

There was the sound of laughter from behind them and the crowd turned. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were approaching them, grinning triumphantly. Behind them, Erica was following, looking equal parts apprehensive and amused.

“Just taken it!” Fred said to Harriet and her friends as they reached the crowd.

“Taken what?” Ronnie asked.

“The Ageing Potion,” George said. “One drop each, since we only need to be a few months older.”

“We’re going to split the thousand Galleons between us if one of us wins,” Lee said.

Hermione sidled over to Erica. “It’s not going to work, is it?” Hermione asked.

“Not a chance,” Erica muttered. “A few other students already tried the same thing last night. Didn’t work.”

Hermione gave Erica a surprised look. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

Erica rolled her eyes. “Who said I didn’t?”

“Ready?” Fred asked the other two.

He was positively trembling with excitement as he stepped up to the line. In spite of his behaviour the night before, Harriet couldn’t help but smile seeing Fred acting more like his normal self.

“I’ll go first,” Fred said, stepping up to the line. He shifted from foot to foot quickly, shaking out his hands, as though he was shaking himself out and hyping himself up to run a dash. Finally, he stepped across the line.

At first, it looked like it had worked. George certainly seemed to think so as he gave a whoop of triumph and stepped across the line as well.

“Uh step aside,” Harriet heard Erica say and she pulled Hermione out of the way.

She was just in time, for at that moment, there was a loud sizzling noise and Fred and George were both flung backwards sailing through the open place where Hermione had just been standing. They landed ten feet back from where they’d been thrown, groaning. Then, there was a loud popping sound and both twins sprouted long white beards that went down to their ankles.

The whole Entrance Hall rang with laughter. Fred and George took each other in and both started laughing loudly as Lee and Erica helped them to their feet.

“I did warn you,” chortled the deep, cheerful voice of Professor Dumbledore.

Everyone looked around to see him standing in the doorway of the Great Hall, his bright eyes twinkling and his bushy beard twitching with laughter.

“I suggest you both head up to Madam Pomfrey. She has already tended to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a bit. Though dare I say, neither of their beards are quite as magnificent as yours.”

Fred and George set off for the Hospital Wing, still laughing merrily. Erica and Lee joined them, Lee still laughing too and Erica discussing possible styling choices if Madam Pomfrey was unable to remove the beards.

Harriet and her friends headed into the Great Hall for breakfast. The hall had been mostly returned to normal, though the jack-o-lanterns and bow-tie bats were still floating and fluttering around the ceiling. Harriet glanced over at the Slytherin table. Pansy, Pixie, and Blaise were all eyeing the bats apprehensively, as if sure they would launch another attack. Harriet wished they would.

“The word is, Warrington got up early and put his name in,” Dean said nearby. “That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth.”

“He did,” Dora said, confirming as she took her seat next to Ronnie.

“Great,” Seamus grumbled.

Dora rolled her eyes.

“Well all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory,” Seamus went on. “But I wouldn’t have thought he’d want to risk his good looks.”

Everyone paused. There was the sound of cheering from the Entrance Hall. Everyone turned and saw Angelina Johnson with a crowd of her Gryffindor friends entering the Great Hall. Angelina was smiling in an embarrassed way as she sat across from Harriet.

“Well, I just did it. I put my name in.”

“Excellent!” Harriet said, smiling.

“Great!” Dora agreed. “Be awesome to see a girl win it!”

Angelina smiled in a pleasantly surprised way. “Thank you, Dora.”

After they finished their breakfast, they walked back into the Entrance Hall. They were just in time to see the Mount Phoenix students putting their names in. Harriet spotted Marius standing with Professor Cato, watching the potential champions, and gave him a little wave. He smiled back recognizing her and returning it. One by one, the Mount Phoenix students stepped up to the Goblet and dropped in a piece of parchment with their names and school written on it. With each slip of parchment, the flames in the Goblet turned red and crackled with sparks.

“So, what are we going to do with a whole day off?” Scott asked, stretching.

“We haven’t been down to see Hagrid yet,” Harriet said.

“Oh goodness!” Hermione exclaimed, clapping a hand to her forehead. “I haven’t asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet! Wait here will you? I’ll just run upstairs and get the badges!”

“Mental,” Ronnie muttered.

“Oh, I would not go that far. Enthusiastic, certainly,” said a voice behind them. “But not mental.”

They turned and Harriet felt her lips automatically turn into a grin as she looked up to see Professor Howe standing behind them.

“Professor Howe!” Harriet said excitedly.

“P-Professor…” Scott stammered, looking up at Professor Howe almost reverently.

Professor Howe chortled and actually shook Scott’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Master McIntyre. Professor Dumbledore speaks most highly of your aptitudes, and Miss Granger’s as well.”

Scott went furiously red.

“What brings you here, Professor?” Harriet asked.

“Oh putting aside my pride to be a part of history and witness the choosing tonight,” Professor Howe said.

“Is Doctor Watkins here too?” Harriet asked.

“Alas no,” Professor Howe replied. “He’s busy doing my job for me while I’m away.”

Professor Howe began introducing himself properly to the rest of Harriet’s friends. While they had met him the night of Sirius’ escape last spring, they had not been properly introduced. Harriet let her attention drift and noted other students passing them. Many were looking at Professor Howe and muttering and gossiping. Some of them seemed excited, but others (mainly Slytherins) were giving him darker looks.

There was a clanking sound and Hermione came hurrying back up to them, the box of badges and collecting tin in her arms.

“I’m back! Thanks for—Professor Howe!” Hermione gasped, nearly dropping the box.

Professor Howe chuckled. “Good morning to you, Miss Granger. And what have we here?” he asked, leaning over to look into the box.

Ronnie rolled her eyes and Hermione stammered.

“Ah, good morning, Sherrod my friend,” said the gravelly voice of General Wengshuk.

“Jigme!” Professor Howe said shaking the much shorter, portly man’s hand. “I was just enquiring of Miss Granger here as to what these badges were for.”

“Th-they’re… they’re for S.P.E.W.,” Hermione managed to say finally. “The Society for the P-Promotion of Elfish Welfare…”

“I see,” General Wengshuk said, holding up one of the badges and inspecting it.

Harriet blinked, her look of surprise mirrored on all the other faces. When had he reached into the box to take one?

“Two Sickles, is it?” Professor Howe asked.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“For the badges,” Professor Howe chuckled. “You list the price as two Sickles on your parchment.”

“Oh, y-y-yes sir,” Hermione said.

“Very well then, allow me to get yours for you, Jigme my old friend,” Professor Howe said.

General Wengshuk smiled and bowed. “You are too kind.”

Professor Howe promptly produced four Sickles and dropped them into the tin. Both men pinned their badges onto their chests and headed off up the stairs, turning in the direction of Professor Dumbledore’s office, chatting merrily with each other.

“Professor Howe just bought one of my badges…” Hermione said, sounding dazed. “Professor Howe… bought… one of my badges!”

“Yes, yes he did,” Scott chuckled and he and Marcus both put hands on Hermione’s shoulders, guiding her out the main doors to the grounds. They stopped to say hello to Aurochius who was on duty again at the main doors before continuing on to Hagrid’s.

The grounds looked especially cluttered now. The Beauxbatons carriage, where the Beauxbatons students were staying, was near Hagrid’s cabin. The massive winged horses were milling about it, tossing their great manes and flaring their enormous wings.

The Mount Phoenix students were staying in a large, grand looking tent nearby which had a façade of actual stone pillars. The Mount Phoenix Areions were grazing alongside the entrance to the tent, ignoring the Beauxbatons’ horses. However, Harriet was pleased when one of the Areions moved enough for her to see Epeius standing amongst them, grazing as well, his tail swishing merrily.

The Four Nations students meanwhile were staying in their massive flying steam dragon, and the Durmstrang students were staying on their ship. Harriet wondered how comfortable it could really be on the ship, especially if it got windy during the night.

Fang’s powerful barks greeted them as Harriet knocked on the door to Hagrid’s hut.

“‘Bout time!” Hagrid said cheerfully when he opened the door. “Thought you’d all forgotten where I lived!”

“We’ve been really busy, Hag—” Hermione started to say but cut herself off as she stared up at Hagrid.

Hagrid was wearing his horrible hairy brown suit that he’d worn to Buckbeak’s hearing, with a yellow and orange checked tie. Even worse, he had attempted to tame his hair by using what smelled like axle grease. His slicked down hair was done in two bunches behind his head. Harriet wondered if he had tried to put it in a ponytail but found he had too much hair but it wasn’t long enough.

They all stared at him for much longer than they should before Marcus cleared his throat. “Um, where’s uh… where’s the Skrewts?”

“Oh they’re out back by the pumpkin patch,” Hagrid said. “Near three foot long now! Only problem is they’ve started killin’ each other.”

“Oh, no, really?” Hermione asked, trying to sound concerned.

“Yeah, that’s terrible,” Kieran said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” said Hagrid, sadly. “S’Ok though, I’ve got ‘em in separate boxes now. Still got abou’ twenty.”

“Well, that’s lucky,” Ronnie muttered sarcastically. Fortunately, Hagrid didn’t catch it.

The conversation quickly turned to the Tournament.

“You wait,” Hagrid grinned. “You just wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh’ve never seen before. First task… ah, but I’m not supposed ter say.”

“Oh, go on, Hagrid!” they urged him but Hagrid refused, grinning even more.

“I don’ want ter spoil it!” he said. “But it’s gonna be spectacular, I’ll tell yeh that! Them champions’re gonna have their work cut out fer them. Never thought I’d live ter see the Tournament played again!”

They had lunch with Hagrid, though no one ate very much. He served them all a ‘beef casserole’ but after Hermione discovered a large talon in hers, everyone else lost their appetites.

Early in the afternoon it started to rain, so they decided to stay longer, keeping Hagrid company and talking happily about the tournament. They kept trying to get Hagrid to tell them what the tasks would be, speculated on whether Fred and George were beardless yet, and who were likely to be champions.

“My money’s still on that Aello girl from Mount Phoenix,” Dora said.

“I’m betting on Krum,” Ronnie declared. “We already know how cool he is under pressure.”

“Well I’m hoping for Angelina,” Harriet stated.

“Me too,” Marcus agreed.

“Yeah, because you Gryffindors never get any glory,” Dora teased.

“Hey, your house had the Quidditch Cup for how many years before we got it back?” Harriet retorted.

They were distracted by the argument that had begun between Hermione and Hagrid. Hermione had finally approached Hagrid about joining S.P.E.W. and Hagrid had flatly refused.

“‘s’In their nature ter look after humans, Hermione,” Hagrid explained. “Be doin’ them an unkindness if yeh set ‘em all free, and insultin’ them if yeh tried ter pay ‘em. It’s just who they are.”

“But what about Dobby?” Hermione asked, pointedly. “Harriet set him free and now he works for Scott’s family like a real person.”

“Yeah well, yeh’ll get oddballs in any breed,” Hagrid said. “I’m not sayin’ there aren’t the rare elf that’ll take freedom, but yeh’ll never convince most of ‘em.”

“ _Professor Howe_ bought one,” Hermione said, stubbornly.

Hagrid’s beetle-black eyes widened enough that Harriet could actually see the whites around them.

“Did ‘e now?”

“Yes,” Hermione said haughtily. “And General Wengshuk.”

“Well… if they think it’s worth it… yeah, you know, I will take one.”

Hermione beamed.

At half-past five, they decided to head back up to the school for the feast and the announcement of the champions.

“Oh hang on jus’ a sec, I’ll come with yeh,” Hagrid said.

He got up and went over to his chest of drawers, searching around inside it. No one was paying much attention until an overpowering, awful smell washed over them.

“Hagrid?!” Ronnie gasped, coughing, “what’s that?!

“Eh?” Hagrid said, turning to face them again, holding a large bottle.

“I-is that, aftershave?” Hermione asked, trying not to cough herself.

“Er, eau-de-Cologne… Might be a bit much. I’ll go rinse it off.”

Hagrid stepped outside and they heard him splashing in his water bucket.

“Eau-de-Cologne?” Hermione asked under her breath. “ _Hagrid_?”

“And that hair…” Dora said.

“Look!” Ronnie hissed, pointing out Hagrid’s window.

They snuck up to the window and peered out. They saw Madame Maxime emerging from the Beauxbatons carriage, followed by her students. Hagrid was walking over to greet them, talking happily with Madame Maxime.

“Awwwwwww…”

Everyone looked around. Dora quickly put her hands down which had been covering her mouth and cleared her throat.

“What?” Dora asked, stand-offishly. “Even I can think some things are cute, can’t I?”

“He’s going up to the castle with her,” Kieran said.

“I thought he was waiting for us?” Scott asked.

“He fancies her!” Ronnie said. “Well… who else could they get with? Mind you… if they do and they have a kid it’ll be the biggest baby ever born.”

They left Hagrid’s cabin and hurried up to the castle. As they neared the castle they saw that the Durmstrang, Four Nations, and Mount Phoenix students were also heading into the school. They followed them into the Great Hall. The Goblet of Fire had been moved, it’s stand once again in front of the staff table. Dora and Scott broke off to join their house tables while Harriet and the rest sat near Fred and George who were clean-shaven once more.

“There you lot are,” Fred said, grinning. “Hope it’s Angelina.”

“So do I!” Hermione said. “We’ll know soon!”

They ate happily and gossiped even more. Harriet leaned over to Fred.

“You seem better,” she said.

Fred looked uncharacteristically awkward. “Yeah, really am sorry about last night,” he said sincerely. “I was… being an idiot. But I’m okay now, honest.”

Harriet opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again. She looked down to see her plate had cleaned itself. In fact, it finally seemed that all the plates had cleaned themselves of uneaten food. Harriet looked up at the staff table along with everyone else.

Professor Dumbledore rose. Professor Cato was grinning with eager anticipation. General Wengshuk was reclining serenely in his chair beside Professor Howe. Harriet was amused to see they were both still wearing their S.P.E.W. badges.

Madame Maxime had as much anticipation on her face as Professor Cato, though her expression was much tenser. Professor Ilves’ expression was much more difficult to read as she looked up at Professor Dumbledore. Ludo Bagman was grinning around at the students, giving little winks here and there. Crouch, on the other hand, looked almost bored.

“The Goblet is almost ready,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I estimate that it will need only one more minute. When the champions are called, we ask that they come up to the staff table and walk through the door on the back right of the wall to the next chamber. They will receive their first instructions once their headmasters and mistress have joined them.”

Professor Dumbledore drew his wand and waved it. At once, as with the party the night before, all the candles except for the jack-o-lanterns went out. The light of the Goblet blazed in the semi-darkness, almost too bright to look at.

“Any second,” Lee Jordan whispered.

The flames inside the Goblet suddenly turned red once more and shot out sparks. A long tongue of flame shot upwards and from it fluttered a charred piece of parchment which Professor Dumbledore deftly caught.

“The champion for Durmstrang…,” he said taking a moment, Harriet thought, to build suspense, “is Viktor Krum!”

“No surprises there!” Ronnie said as Krum rose from the Slytherin table and made his way to the staff table.

Krum turned right, walking along it as instructed and disappeared through the door. Professor Ilves was actually smiling now, applauding Krum with pride. For a brief second, Harriet was sure she would get up and follow, but her eyes returned immediately to the Goblet.

The applause died down and all attention returned to the Goblet once more. With another burst of red flames, a second piece of parchment was flung into the air. Professor Dumbledore caught this one too and read.

“The champion from Four Nations is Kazunari Watanuki!”

“What?!” Ronnie exclaimed in disbelief as Kazunari rose and followed Krum from the hall.

“That idiot?” Dean asked, mirroring Ronnie’s incredulity.

Indeed, Kazunari did not give a good show of himself as he turned left instead of right and only realized his mistake when Professor Dumbledore kindly cleared his throat and turned around, blushing as red as the Gryffindor banners above them as he made his way to the proper door. General Wengshuk was smiling jovially and applauding Kazunari as he left. The applause died down once more and a heavy silence fell over the hall. The Goblet flared once more.

“The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!”

The _Veela_ -girl, as Ronnie kept calling her, rose gracefully from her seat, threw back her sheet of shimmering blonde hair and swept up the hall between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

“They don’t look happy about it, do they?” Hermione observed, looking at the other Beauxbatons students who hadn’t been chosen.

Indeed they didn’t. Two of the girls who hadn’t been chosen were sobbing into their arms, slumped over the table.

Fleur left through the door and silence fell a fourth time. Harriet and Ronnie held and squeezed hands. It was either the Mount Phoenix or Hogwarts champion next.

Another flash of red and Professor Dumbledore held up the fourth piece of parchment.

“The champion for Mount Phoenix is Aello!”

Professor Cato and the rest of the Mount Phoenix crowd cheered. The rest of the school took a moment before they began to applause too. Harriet figured that everyone else, like her, had been expecting Aello to also have a last name. Aello did not seem to notice or care as she strode to the staff table, her shoulders held back and her head held high with pride.

“Hogwarts next,” Ronnie whispered excitedly as the crowd quieted down for the last time.

Harriet crossed her fingers and for the final time the Goblet’s fire went red and shot out the last piece of parchment.

Professor Dumbledore’s smile grew even wider as he read.

“The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!”

“No!” Ronnie, Dean and Seamus said loudly, but only Harriet could hear them over the roar from the rest of the school. The Hufflepuffs were all on their feet, jumping up and down, stamping their feet and pounding on the table as Cedric made his way to the staff table. He was grinning broadly and handsomely and in spite of everything else that had happened that weekend, and her disappointment for Angelina, Harriet felt a slight flutter.

“Excellent!” Professor Dumbledore said happily as the roar began to die down finally. “Well, we now have our five champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Four Nations, and Mount Phoenix, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will continue in a very real—”

Professor Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking. No one was in any doubt as to what had stopped him. The Goblet of Fire was spluttering, turning red and blue and red again. It looked as though it was trying to give another name but something was stopping it. Finally, the flames went red and the long tongue of flame shot out again, flinging out another piece of parchment.

Professor Dumbledore caught it as well and read. Professor Dumbledore simply stared at the parchment, while everyone else in the room was staring at him. Finally, after what felt like ages, Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“ _Harriet Potter_.”


	17. The Hex-Wizard Tournament

“Adversity can make or break the best of friendships. But it is reassuring to note that it is most often the case that the friendships which survive such hardships often come out much stronger than before.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The entire world had stopped moving. Harriet sat in her seat, feeling every eye in the hall staring at her. She felt both very small, and yet exposed at the same time, as though she was a microbe under the gaze of hundreds of powerful microscopes. Harriet shook her head slowly. She had to have imagined it.

The room had gone deathly silent. Then, a low hissing noise, as though a breeze was growing, began to fill the Hall as students began to whisper. Some were even standing to get a better look at her.

Professor McGonagall, Professor Howe, and Professor Snape all got to their feet at the same time and moved to Professor Dumbledore. They leaned in at once and all began urgently whispering in his ears. Harriet felt even more unsettled at the look of worry on Professor Howe’s face. If he was worried, something must have been very wrong indeed.

Harriet looked back around at her friends. They were all staring at her wide-eyed.

“I didn’t…” Harriet said, sounding as numb as she felt. “I didn’t put my name in. You know I didn’t.”

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat again. “Harriet Potter!” he called out once more. “Harriet? Up here, if you please.”

“Go on,” Hermione whispered, nudging Harriet gently.

Harriet finally got to her feet. She slowly started up the long gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, which now felt much, much longer than it usually did. Harriet’s neck was tingling at the sensation of all the eyes in the hall watching her. The whispers of the crowd grew louder and louder with each step.

Harriet slowly looked up at Professor Dumbledore as she reached the staff table. She didn’t look at any of the other teachers. She couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t even meet Professor Dumbledore’s eyes, looking somewhere around his chin through his bushy beard instead. Why did she feel so ashamed? She hadn’t put her name in the Goblet. She had nothing to be ashamed of. But how had it come out of the Goblet?

“Well, through the door, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said, gesturing to the door that the champions had left through.

Harriet turned and walked towards the door. As she neared, she felt her pace increasing. She wanted to run for the door, now that she was so close to being out of sight of the thousands of staring eyes. She passed Hagrid last. He did not smile or wave at her. More than any other time in her life, Harriet really, really wanted him to.

Finally, Harriet’s salvation arrived as she opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind her. She took a deep breath as warm relief swept over her before she turned her attention onto her surroundings. She found herself in another, smaller room. It was dimly lit, and the walls were lined with portraits. The occupants of all of them were looking down at her and whispering amongst themselves. Flitting through each was a wizened witch, whispering in the ears of the others.

Despite her worry, Harriet’s attention was drawn to the far end of the room. The champions were all gathered around a large, blazing fireplace. None of them were speaking, simply staring into the flames. As she looked at their silhouettes, Harriet couldn’t help but feel they looked rather regal.

Krum was leaning with his forearm against the mantelpiece, like a dark and brooding king of old. Cedric was standing in the middle, hands clasped behind his back, legs shoulder-width apart, putting Harriet in mind of a stalwart knight. Fleur was sitting in one of the soft armchairs surrounding the fire, her long legs crossed and her arms spread out on the arms of the chair as though a queen on a throne. Aello was standing on the opposite side to Krum. She had one arm across her chest, her other elbow propped on her hand over her mouth stroking her cheek in contemplation. Harriet couldn’t help but imagine her as a general, standing in contemplation of a coming battle.

The exception to this atmosphere was Kazunari. He was leaning in a forced casual way on one of the other armchairs. Harriet got the impression that he’d tried to offer it to Aello but she’d refused and now he felt too awkward to take the seat himself.

Fleur looked around at her and smiled pleasantly. “What is it?” she asked. “Do zey want us back in ze Hall?”

The others turned around. Krum and Aello’s stoic expressions did not change. Cedric smiled at her with a look of pleasant surprise. Kazunari smiled as well but his smile was the first to falter as he seemed to register something was not right.

It was at that moment that there was the sound of hurried footsteps and the door behind Harriet opened and Ludo Bagman entered.

He took hold of Harriet’s upper arm and pulled her forward to the others. “Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary!” Bagman said. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce—incredible though it is—the _sixth_ Triwizard champion!”

Krum straightened up at once. Kazunari’s arm slipped off the top of the armchair and he barely caught himself, standing back up again looking around the others as though making sure no one saw. Cedric looked politely puzzled, while Aello gave almost no reaction at all.

Fleur tossed her hair and smiled radiantly. “Oh, ver’ funny joke, Monsieur Bagman,” Fleur said, giving a fluttering laugh.

“Joke?” Bagman asked. “No, no joke at all. Harriet’s name just came out of the Goblet of Fire.”

Krum’s overlarge eyebrows contracted until they nearly became one. Aello’s eyes did nothing but dart between Bagman and Harriet. Cedric’s expression remained the same. Kazunari’s look was the hardest to place. His eyes were moving to everyone else in the room now, studying each face in turn.

Fleur frowned. “But evidently zair ‘as been some sort of mistake,” she said. Her voice was borderline contemptuous. “She is too young to compete.”

“Well, it’s… amazing really,” Bagman said, studying Harriet closely. “But that is to say, the age restriction was only added this year as an extra safety measure, and as her name came out I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do, or any ducking out at this stage. It’s in the rules, all contestants are obliged to compete once their names are called! Harriet will just have to do the best she—”

There was the sound of raised voices and the door opened again. Professor Dumbledore entered, followed by Professor Howe, Mr Crouch, Professor Ilves, Madam Maxime, Professor Cato, General Wengshuk, Professor McGonagall, Professor Morrisey, and Professor Snape. Harriet could still hear the gossip outside in the Great Hall before Professor McGonagall shut the door.

“Madame Maxime!” Fleur exclaimed, striding over to her overlarge headmistress. “Zey say zat zis little girl is to compete also!”

Harriet was roused just enough from her stunned disbelief to scowl at Fleur. _Little girl?_ Harriet noted that she was not the only one. Aello had given Fleur a dirty look as well.

Madame Maxime puffed out her enormous chest and her head brushed the hanging chandelier as she loomed over Professor Dumbledore. “I demand an explanasion, Dumbly-dorr!” Madame Maxime said.

“As do I!” Professor Cato said. His usual good-natured toothy-grin was gone, replaced with a deeply suspicious scowl. “Two champions from your school?”

“ _C’est impossible_ ,” Madame Maxime declared. “‘Ogwarts cannot ‘ave two champions. It is most unjust!”

“What was the point of the age-line if this could happen?” Professor Cato asked. “How could this happen? How could the Goblet even choose two contestants from the same school?”

“Ah, now someone is asking the correct questions,” Professor Ilves said.

“Quite right, Aloyna,” Professor Howe said. His face was not as stricken as it was before, but he still looked more serious than Harriet had ever seen him.

“How did you do it, Potter?”

Harriet jumped. She was so unaccustomed to that voice saying her name that she didn’t recognize who had spoken at first. Professor Snape grabbed hold of her arm and spun her around. “I told you, Dumbledore, I told you no good could come of her associating with her father’s old—”

“That is enough, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said. The coolness in his voice sent a chill down Harriet’s spine.

Professor Snape let go of Harriet’s shoulder quickly, taking a few steps back. He was giving Professor Dumbledore an unfathomable look.

Harriet looked back at Professor Dumbledore. His eyes were looking deep into hers. “Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harriet?” Professor Dumbledore asked, calmly.

“No, sir,” Harriet replied.

“Did you ask an older student to put your name into the Goblet of Fire for you?”

“ _No_ , sir,” Harriet replied, emphatically.

“Ah, but of course she is lying!” Madame Maxime declared.

Professor Snape’s mouth twisted unpleasantly. Harriet figured he rather agreed.

“Potter could not have crossed the age-line, I think we are all agreed on that,” Professor McGonagall said. Harriet felt a small welling of appreciation inside her that Professor McGonagall seemed entirely on her side.

“Zen Dumbly-dorr must ‘ave made a mistake wiz ze line!” Madame Maxime said, pointing at Professor Dumbledore.

“That is a possibility, of course,” Professor Dumbledore said reasonably.

“Albus, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “What nonsense! Harriet could not have crossed the line by herself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that she did not persuade an older student to do it for her—”

“And what if it was not an older student?” Professor Cato asked.

“Meaning?” Professor Morrisey asked.

“Meaning this is no ordinary girl!” Professor Cato said. “And her, of all Hogwarts students, getting into the tournament despite her age is a bit convenient, is it not?”

“Aelius, are you seriously about to suggest that Professor Dumbledore willingly entered a fourteen year old girl in the _Triwizard Tournament_?” Professor Morrisey asked, his voice borderline disdainful.

“Are you telling me that this is an ordinary girl?” Professor Cato said back, pointing at Harriet. He gave Harriet a look that she thought might be apologetic, but his anger was clearly overpowering it. “I am sorry, my dear. Please understand, I do not think you had any hand in this. But tales of your exploits have reached us even as far away as Greece.”

Harriet wasn’t sure how to respond to that. But before she could formulate a response, Professor Cato turned back to the other professors. “This girl vanquished the one you call “You-Know-Who” at only a year old. Then I am told she defeated him not once but twice more at the ages of eleven and twelve! I think we must agree that despite her age, Miss Potter is not a normal girl. And I think that perhaps some have grown a little overly confident in this fact.”

“Yes, on that we can all agree,” growled a new voice from the doorway. Professor Moody had arrived. He stumped over, his fake right foot clunking ominously with each step.

“Ah, there you are, Alastor,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Professor Moody reached the circle around Harriet. She was surprised by what happened. She had known that Professor Moody and Professor Howe had once worked together at the Ministry. She expected them to greet each other as old friends, but that was not what happened. Instead, Professor Moody gave Professor Howe a very cold look. Professor Howe was looking right back, but his face seemed completely passive, neither smiling nor frowning.

“Well, goodness, the great team of Howe and Moody back at it again, eh?” Bagman said in a vain attempt at a more cheerful tone.

“For now,” Professor Moody growled before returning his attention to Professor Howe. “I suppose you noticed it too?”

“Noticed what?” Madame Maxime asked.

“Contestants were to put their name and the name of their school on the parchment they placed into the Goblet of Fire,” General Wengshuk chimed in, reclining comfortably in the chair that Fleur had vacated. “You’ll note that the piece of parchment bearing Harriet’s name does not.”

“And what does that mean?” Professor Cato asked.

“It means that whoever did put Potter’s name in put her name in under another school. A school in which she was the only contestant, guaranteed to be chosen. The Goblet cannot pick more than one champion from a school,” Wengshuk explained.

“Yes,” Moody grunted, sitting and stretching out his leg. “Quite right. This should rule out the slightest bit of student involvement. Whoever put Harriet’s name into the Goblet had to trick it into thinking there was a sixth school entering.”

“You noted the odd way that it spluttered and struggled before divulging Harriet’s name,” Professor Morrisey said. “The Goblet was fighting against the charm, a Confundus Charm now doubt, that someone yet unknown must have placed upon it before putting Harriet’s name in.”

“And why would anyone do zat?” Madam Maxime asked.

“Unless of course it is to give Hogwarts two shots at the glory,” Professor Cato said. His eyes were still bent upon Professor Dumbledore, Bagman, and Crouch with marked suspicion.

“But she won’t,” Professor Morrisey said. “Like we said, whoever put Potter’s name in put her in under another school. Ergo, despite being a Hogwarts student, she’s not technically competing for Hogwarts. But really, there’s no other way it could have been done. Whoever did this did not have Harriet’s best interests at heart, that is for certain.”

Harriet felt her stomach clench at this. What was Professor Morrisey saying? Based on the silence that followed, everyone else was either deeply unsettled by Professor Morrisey’s comment or did not understand it either.

“Her best interests?” Fleur spat. “How could zey not? Zis is a chance we ‘ave all been wanting for weeks and weeks! Ze honour of our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money! It is a chance many would die for!”

“Well, there it is,” Professor Moody growled. “Perhaps someone’s hoping Potter _will_ die for it…”

Harriet now felt her knees start to get shaky. Another awkward silence followed this proclamation until Ludo Bagman managed to splutter. “M-Moody old man! What a thing to say!”

“Or per’aps there was another motive…” Professor Ilves said darkly.

The room fell silent. Professor Howe gave Professor Ilves a look but she paid him no mind. Instead, her eyes were boring into Professor Dumbledore.

“M-meaning?” Professor McGonagall asked, her throat tight.

“Death Eaters at the World Cup. My predecessor, a former Death Eater himself, murdered at the same event. People who would love the chance to bring Potter to harm. To this I have two hypotheses.”

“Aloyna,” Professor Howe said. Even though Professor Ilves had not yet stated her ideas, by the look on his face Harriet was sure that Professor Howe had guessed them. “I can only support one of those.”

“Vat is going on?” Krum asked.

“Do not let your friendship blind you, Sherrod,” Professor Ilves said.

Harriet felt her head spinning slightly in confusion.

“Aloyna, I assure you,” Professor Dumbledore said getting to his feet. “I would never willingly place Harriet into harm’s way.”

“Well then,” Professor Ilves said. “If this was not a ploy to lure the Death Eaters out into the open, then we have to consider that someone in this school is in league with them.”

The room fell silent once more.

“None of this gets us anywhere,” Professor Howe said stepping into the middle of the room, breaking the silence.

Harriet looked up at him, hoping for more answers. Professor Howe did return her look, though his expression remained unintelligible to Harriet.

“You are quite right, Sherrod. We have much to discuss,” Professor Dumbledore said. “But until then, it seems we have no choice but to accept what has happened. Harriet’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire, and so she will compete along with Cedric.”

“But Dumbly-dorr—”

“My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative I would be delighted to hear it.”

Madame Maxime gave no response.

“But… but if this is so dangerous,” Kazunari said. “And Harriet could be targeted, why does she not just forfeit each task?”

“Yes!” Fleur said. “She could just queet and zis would be done and over wis, wis no ‘arm done to anyone!”

“Are you _really_ the best that Beauxbatons had to offer?”

Harriet looked around, not recognizing the voice. She saw that it was Aello who had spoken and was looking at Fleur with disgust.

“You are, what? Three years older than her? Four?” Aello went on. “You have been picked. You already get to compete. And if you are half as good as you think you are then you will relish the competition and be gladdened of the fact that another sister has joined the competition!”

“Aello,” Professor Cato said. His tone was not angry, though Aello still scowled and crossed her arms, falling silent once more.

“To answer your question, Mister Watanuki and Miss Delacour,” Crouch said from the shadows, “is the binding magical contract.”

Crouch stepped forward into the circle. Now that Harriet could see him up close, she thought Crouch looked rather ill. He had bags under his eyes, and his skin was sallow.

“I thought that was just to try and scare people without the proper nerve out of entering?” Cedric said.

“No,” Crouch said. “It is quite real, Mister Diggory.”

“But how does that vork?” Krum asked.

“Fortunately, it is nothing lethal,” Crouch said. “But it is not pleasant. The contract binds the champion to the tournament. It is much the same as the enchantment placed upon the World Cup stadi—”

BAM!

The door to the room burst open. Harriet felt elated. It was Daniel. The look on his face was pure rage, but the sight of him gave her a level of comfort she’d not felt in a long time.

“Ah, Daniel,” Professor Dumbledore said. His voice sounded pleasant, but he was still not smiling. “You heard quickly.”

“The whole Hall’s talking about it, Albus,” Daniel said. He was walking over, his shoulders locked and his jaw set.

“This is how you keep her safe, is it?” Daniel said as he reached Professor Dumbledore. “Yeah, give her to the Dursleys who treat her like shit her whole life, years of mental abuse, you let her chase after the Philosopher’s Stone, go off after the Chamber of Secrets—”

“Daniel,” Professor Howe said taking hold of Daniel’s upper arms and pulling him back.

“This is his fault!” Daniel said pointing at Professor Dumbledore. “You told me she’d be safe! You told me you got Mad-Eye out of retirement to look after her! You said you were taking precautions!”

Daniel finally spluttered out, breathing heavily and shrugging his shoulders out of Professor Howe’s grasp. Professor Dumbledore said nothing. He merely stood and stared back at Daniel. Harriet wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw the twinkle of tears beginning to form in Professor Dumbledore’s eyes.

“Daniel,” Professor Howe said. “We don’t know how this happened yet. Not even I know. We will do everything we can to keep Harriet safe from here on. We’ve installed as many safeguards as possible to keep all champions safe.”

“How?” Daniel asked. “How did this happen?”

“We only have guesses at this point, Daniel,” Professor Dumbledore said, his tone gentle and calm. “If you would please remain, we can discuss it with you and we would ask your help in keeping Harriet safe from here on.”

Daniel kept giving Professor Dumbledore his hard stare and finally he sighed and seemed to deflate. “Fine,” Daniel said, sinking into the chair that Kazunari had been leaning on. “Fine… but soon we’re going to have a chat about how she’s looked after, Dumbledore…”

The room fell into silence once more. Harriet glanced around the room. The anger that Daniel had shown seemed to have quelled Madame Maxime’s and Professor Cato’s concerns. Both of them were looking at Harriet with very different expressions. Almost pitying.

Fleur was determinedly not looking at Harriet. Aello was studying Harriet in a calculating way. Cedric was looking at Harriet as though he’d never seen her before. Krum was looking around at all the professors, his eyebrows raised in a bemused way, and still, Kazunari stood back, his eyes moving from champion to champion, studying.

“Well, shall we crack on then?” Bagman chimed in, stepping into the space in the middle of the room, rubbing his hands together eagerly “Barty, you were explaining how the contract worked, were you not?”

“Yes, thank you, Ludo,” Crouch said. “As I was saying, before being interrupted; the contract works much as the enchantments we placed upon the World Cup stadium. Now that the champions have been chosen, they themselves will feel compelled to compete. It will consume their minds. Take them too far away, and they will continue to obsess over the competition until they have competed.”

Harriet felt her eye twitch. She noticed that the other champions also looked rather taken aback at this as well. Even Kazunari had taken his attention away from the other champions, looking at Crouch instead.

“Thus, Miss Potter cannot forfeit unless she attempts to compete. Or she will be plagued with obsessing over the competition for the rest of her life. As will the rest of you. You are all well past the point of no return. This is why students have been exempted from end of year tests. Your life from now until completion is the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Yeah, okay,” Cedric said. “That would have been nice to know… not that it would have stopped me but… all things considered…”

Harriet rather agreed, until she remembered that she hadn’t entered willingly in the first place.

“Well, now that’s out of the way, we’ve got to give our champions their first instructions, don’t we? Barty! Would you like to do the honours?”

“Yes, Ludo,” Crouch said. “The first task is designed to test your daring, so we are not going to tell you what it is—”

“What?” Fleur asked.

“How do we prepare for something when we don’t know what it is?” Cedric asked, mirroring Fleur’s shock. Harriet felt it too, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Crouch gave them an irritable look for the interruption. “Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important… The first task will take place on November the Twenty-Sixth, in front of the other students, spectators, and the panel of judges.”

The other champions exchanged pensive glances. Harriet could tell they were all thinking the same thing: what had they gotten themselves in to?

“The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wand. They will receive information about the second task after the first is over. As I said before, due to the gruelling nature of the Tournament and the contract, champions will not be required to perform end of the year tests.”

Mr Crouch turned to Professor Dumbledore. “I believe that is all, isn’t it, Albus?”

“I believe so,” Professor Dumbledore answered, giving Crouch a concerned look. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty? Or perhaps at the inn?”

“No, Albus, I must get back to the Ministry,” said Mr Crouch. “It is very busy at the moment, very difficult. I had to leave young Weatherby in charge. Capable but a little… overly enthusiastic, if I can be perfectly honest.”

In spite of everything, Harriet gave a little snort of near laughter.

“You’ll come and have a drink before you go, at least?” asked Professor Dumbledore.

“Come on, Barty! I’m staying!” said Bagman merrily. “It’s all happening at Hogwarts now! Much more exciting here than at the office!”

“I think not, Ludo,” Crouch said sharply. Harriet had a feeling that Bagman’s insistence had done more to persuade Crouch to leave than anything else.

Professor Dumbledore turned to the others. “I would like to ask if the rest of you would join me? We do still have rather a lot to discuss after all. Olympe, Aelius, Aloyna?”

The three all exchanged glances and then nodded.

“Excellent,” Professor Dumbledore said, smiling. “Then we can allow our champions to retire for the night to celebrate with their schoolmates. I’m sure all would enjoy this opportunity to make a great deal of noise and fuss so they can get barely enough sleep for classes tomorrow.”

The champions all made their way to the door. Cedric held the door open for everyone. The Great Hall was empty now. It was almost eerie to see it devoid of students and people. They stepped out into the Entrance Hall and Fleur, Aello, Krum and Kazunari all broke off from Cedric and Harriet without a word to head into the grounds.

Cedric paused. “I… I never knew…” he said.

Harriet looked up at him. His face was serious, almost grimacing. But very handsomely so. “About the people you live with, I mean,” Cedric said. “How they treat you…”

Harriet looked away. She didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Least of all with Cedric. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve learned to deal with it.”

Cedric opened his mouth to say something, closed it again and shook his head. “Anyway, sorry about all that happens to you… you don’t deserve it.”

Harriet watched as Cedric headed off, taking the stairs down towards the Hufflepuff common room. Harriet sighed and headed up the stairs instead.

## * * * *

“Sirius? _Sirius_?”

It was four in the morning. Harriet was working hard to fight back the tears as she sat in the common room, pleading with the mirror to wake Sirius. The party in the Gryffindor common room had done nothing to make Harriet feel any better. Quite the contrary, she felt even worse.

“Nyar, yeah, yargh, I’m up,” Sirius finally grunted and his head loomed into view. He smiled bleary eyed until he saw the look on her face and his smile vanished at once. “What happened?”

“I… I…” Harriet started, not knowing what to say. “You know the Triwizard Tournament…?”

“Yes…?” Sirius replied, cautiously.

“My um… my name… came out of the Goblet—”

“What?!” Sirius asked, his voice so loud it echoed around the common room. “How did that happen?”

Harriet could hear him pacing. “How could Albus have let that happen? Who did it? Do they know?”

“No,” Harriet said, sniffing. “At least I don’t think so. Professor Howe looked really worried.”

“Damn,” Sirius said, giving a soft grunt as he flopped into a chair and rubbed his eyes with his palm. “If Sherrod’s worried, something really must have gone wrong…”

“So… you don’t think I did it?” Harriet pleaded.

Sirius lowered his hand and did his best to smile supportively. “Of course not, kiddo.”

Harriet sniffed again and nodded. “Everyone else thinks I did…”

Sirius’ lip twitched a bit in spite of itself. “Seems to be a theme with us, eh? People thinking we did things we didn’t do.”

Harriet felt the corners of her mouth twitch too. “Yeah… yeah it does…”

“Well, you have your friends behind you at least, right?” Sirius asked, trying to sound reassuring.

Harriet couldn’t say anything. Sirius raised his eyebrows rapidly.

“No!” he said, sounding scandalized.

“It’s not all of them,” Harriet said quickly. “Just… well…”

“Well…?”

“It’s… Hermione, Scott and Marcus all believe me. Dora, Ronnie and Kieran… well…”

“How do they not believe you?!” Sirius asked. Harriet could hear the sound of his feet pacing again.

“Well, Hermione says they do, but… Dora thinks I did it to get even more famous and put myself in more danger… Kieran’s mad at me that I won’t drop out… even though I told him over and over again that I _can’t_ at this point! Crouch explained how the contract thingy works and there’s nothing I can do! And Ronnie… I don’t know what her deal is… she just kinda… isn’t saying anything…”

Sirius sighed. “Well… on the one hand I suppose I can understand why they think that, even though I dislike it in the extreme.”

Harriet nodded and wiped her eyes.

“Well, nothing for it then, really,” Sirius said. “Not much we can do about the fact you’re in the tournament but focus on getting you through it. Your friends will come around, and if not, then they aren’t worth having as friends.”

Those words hit Harriet like a kick in the gut. She’d grown so used to having Kieran and Dora as friends, in particular that, she didn’t know what she’d do without them.

She’d told Kieran things she’d never told anyone else. Dora had followed her into the defences around the Philosopher’s Stone before they were even friends and still became Harriet’s friend even though saving the Stone meant her still living ancestors, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, decided to destroy it and thus passed away shortly thereafter.

“But I don’t think it will come to that!” Sirius said quickly, as though he read Harriet’s mind. “From what Daniel and Remus tell me, both Dora and Kieran have good heads on their shoulders and they’ll come around once the initial shock wears off. No one’s had much time to process what’s happened, kiddo. I’m sure it will be difficult for many people to understand. Keep close to your other friends who are supporting you. You’ll need them.”

“Harriet?”

Harriet felt as though her heart jumped right up into her brain. She spun in her chair, looking around expecting it to be Hermione or Ronnie, but was surprised to see that it was Rachel Kane standing at the foot of the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. She was giving Harriet a puzzled and worried look. Harriet looked back around at the mirror. Sirius was gone.

“Who were you talking to?”

“N-no one,” Harriet lied quickly, and rather unconvincingly if she were being honest with herself.

Rachel did not look convinced but didn’t say anything more. She slowly walked over and Harriet closed the jewellery box quickly.

“Sorry, I was just checking on you… I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed,” Rachel explained as she reached Harriet and sat next to her. Rachel looked over the box, smiling softly.

“Professor Lupin made that for you, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied.

Rachel smiled more. “He really cares about you, we could all tell that even when he was a teacher.”

Harriet felt her cheeks warm.

“I’m… I’m sorry about your friends,” Rachel said.

“Thanks…” Harriet replied, lamely.

“They’ll come around you know,” Rachel went on, echoing Sirius’ words.

Harriet could only nod.

“For what it’s worth… I believe you.”

Harriet looked over at her. Rachel’s sympathetic smile grew. “We all do.”

“We?” Harriet asked.

“Me, Tori, AJ, you know, all the rest of us from the States.”

“Really…?” Harriet asked.

“Really,” Rachel replied. “I saw the look on your face after your name came out. So did everyone else. Besides, you’re one of us, remember?”

Harriet nodded slowly, remembering the mini-ceremony in the Room of Requirement at the end of her second year when the refugees had declared Harriet and her friends ‘honorary refugees’ in gratitude for clearing their names in the Chamber of Secrets incident.

“Even then, Peyton said that even if you actually did put your name in, it wouldn’t matter. We have your back.”

Harriet turned to the sound of more feet on the staircase. Every one of the refugees in Gryffindor house were coming down the stairs. There was Erica, Tori, AJ and her sister, Mable, Katy Tyler and her friends Abigail, Sarah, and Alex, and Ben Jackson and Jackson Lee from the boys’ dormitories. But it wasn’t just the refugees. Even Angelina, Katie, and Alicia from Harriet’s Quidditch team had come, as well as Basheera and Hermione and Marcus.

All of them were smiling at Harriet.

“We have your back, Harriet,” Erica said. “You came through for us, we’ll come through for you.”

“Anyone hassles you, let me know at once,” Ben said.

“Yeah, he’s kind of Head Boy now,” Angelina said. “Good to have on your side.”

Harriet felt her lip trembling. Hermione hurried over and Harriet rose to meet her in a tight hug before finally breaking down completely.


	18. The Weighing of the Wands

“Remember, when you only hope you are at rock bottom, you are not yet there. If you only think you’re there, plan on having a bit further to sink.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Having stayed up so late, Harriet almost overslept. She was greeted in the common room by more cheers from the rest of the Gryffindors, all of whom apparently still thought she had entered herself in the tournament. Harriet successfully dodged the Creevey brothers and made it to the portrait hole. She had hardly gone five steps when the sound of approaching footsteps caused her to look up.

Hermione, Scott, and Marcus were all walking towards her. Hermione was carrying a wrapped stack of buttered toast, while Marcus and Scott were carrying several paper cups filled with orange juice and some additional food.

“We umm… We thought you might like somewhere a bit quieter to eat breakfast than the Great Hall,” Hermione said as she held out the toast to Harriet. “Maybe take a walk in the grounds?”

“Yeah, good idea,” Harriet admitted glumly as she took the stack of toast.

They headed down the many sets of stairs and corridors to the Entrance Hall and out into the grounds.

“Ah, hello Harriet,” Aurochius said in greeting as they stepped out of the doors.

“Oh, hello,” Harriet said. She caught the concern in his voice. “You heard, huh?”

“Of course,” Aurochius said giving a snort that might have been a laugh. “All of the Mount Phoenix students were discussing it both last night and this morning.”

“Do they all think that I put my own name in the Goblet too?” Harriet asked, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from her tone.

“That… did seem to be their consensus, yes…” Aurochius replied.

Harriet grimaced.

“Though their champion… the one named Aello…”

“What about her?” Harriet asked.

“She did not seem to share in the others’ opinion, and was rather insistent upon that point.”

Harriet blinked in surprise.

“However, she was also quite insistent that she did not consider you much competition anyway,” Aurochius said plainly.

“Oh, right,” Harriet said.

“But, she does not know you as I do,” Aurochius said.

Harriet raised an eyebrow sceptically. “But… I’m like half her size.”

“Oh, you think it is size that matters?” Aurochius said, his dark eyes twinkling. “You think we would dare and underestimate faun because of their size? Our kind made that mistake once, long, long ago. Many, my kind included—”

Aurochius was interrupted when the other minotaur who was guarding the door with him, Tudancian, the shortest of the group, gave a derisive snort.

Aurochius gave a snort in response and smiled at Tudancian. At least, Harriet always took the expression to be a smile. It was difficult to tell with minotaurs.

“Perhaps especially our kind,” Aurochius corrected himself. “Tend to place too much value on the biggest or the tallest or especially the strongest. Use that against them. You are small and clever and brave, they’ll never see you coming.”

For the first time since her name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, Harriet smiled.

Aurochius smiled more. “However, there’s two other traits I think you are that matter even more than those.”

“What’re they?” Harriet asked hopefully.

Aurochius laughed. “You’re damned stubborn and determined. Really, Harriet; Do you think there’s the slightest chance that, even without the supposed binding magical contract, you would have been happy with not competing once your name was called?”

Harriet thought. Now that he mentioned it, he was right. If they really had told Harriet she couldn’t compete, she would have been furious. But why? She hadn’t entered herself, by all counts she didn’t have nearly as much of a right as the other five to compete.

“No,” Harriet answered honestly.

“There you have it then,” Aurochius smiled and ruffled Harriet’s hair with his massive hand.

In spite of herself, Harriet laughed. Harriet thanked Aurochius and they bid him good morning before continuing into the grounds.

“So… do they still hate me?” Harriet asked, referring to Kieran, Dora and Ronnie.

“Oh Harriet,” Hermione said soothingly. “They don’t hate you.”

“They gave a really good impression of it then,” Harriet muttered.

“Well… it’s just like Dora said last night, not that I’m defending her!” Marcus said. “Just like… well actually I don’t think any of them think you did it…”

“Then what are they on about?” Harriet asked in exasperation.

“Oh for crying out loud, Harriet, they care about you!” Scott said, his voice rising a little as he gesticulated. “They’ve both liked you for ages!” He paused taking a breath, “And they’re both going to hate me for saying it, though most of us have found it pretty obvious; and frankly at this point it’s finally becoming unfair to you to keep it a secret anymore; They fancy you!”

Harriet stopped walking, noticing that everyone else had gone silent. The sandy shore of the lake stretched out before them. Harriet opened her mouth to interrupt, and was surprised when Hermione continued for him.

“And they – we all – want you to be safe and happy! But,” Hermione paused, looking away from Harriet, “you do have a knack for getting into a lot of trouble. Even if it’s not your fault. And Kieran and Dora, I guess, just have a hard time handling worrying about you all the time and dealing with their own lives on top of that.”

Harriet’s initial reaction was shame, but it was quickly replaced with anger. “Great,” she grumbled darkly and kicked a rock out into the water. “Just great. Brilliant. Like I went out of my way to do any of it… like I—”

“Uh, Harriet,” Marcus interjected. “To be fair, it was your idea to go after the Philosopher’s Stone; and to go after the Chamber of Secrets. Not to forget sneaking into Hogsmeade without permission. And seeing Hagrid before Buckbeak’s execution…”

Harriet turned away to hide her scowl crossed her arms. She didn’t have to dig too deep to find the voice in her head telling her that Marcus was right. Yet there was still plenty of injustice in her mind, too much for her to forgive any of them, yet. She didn’t even care that it was because they fancied her. She knew that she would be there for any of them for anything if they needed it.

“Fine…” Harriet spat, keeping her back turned to everyone else. “What’s Ronnie’s deal then?”

No one responded right away to this. Harriet whirled around to give them a demanding look.

“She… well…” Marcus said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione sighed. “Harriet… she _likes_ Dora.”

Harriet finally let her arms fall. “What?”

“Yes,” Scott agreed. “It… again is… kind of obvious I thought…”

“Well good for you!” Harriet spat and started walking away again.

“Harriet!” Hermione called.

Harriet didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. She heard the sound of Hermione’s feet following but they soon trailed off. Harriet kept going, not paying any attention to where she was heading. She knew morning classes were starting soon, but she didn’t care just now. She wanted to be as far away from everyone as possible.

“Harriet?”

The kindly, winded, and completely unexpected voice finally made Harriet stop. She looked around to find the source. Harriet was so used to seeing the newcomer wearing witches’ robes and her golden hair flowing loose that Harriet didn’t recognize Professor Sinistra at first as she approached wearing a running outfit and her hair done up in a ponytail.

“What are you doing out here alone?” Professor Sinistra asked as she reached Harriet, looking down at her with concern.

Harriet looked at the ground to hide her frustration. “Being alone,” she said simply.

“I see…” Professor Sinistra said, wiping her forehead. She was studying Harriet closely.

Harriet looked back up at her. “What are you up to, Professor?” Harriet asked. She did her best to sound politely interested, even though she was mostly trying to change the subject.

“Oh, just running,” Professor Sinistra said. “Keeps me in shape and helps me put life in focus.”

“Really?” Harriet asked. The latter part in particular piqued her interest.

“Oh definitely,” Professor Sinistra said.

“I could do with a bit of putting life in focus,” Harriet admitted.

Professor Sinistra gave Harriet a sympathetic look.

“Well, you’re not exactly dressed for a run, but if you need an ear and some outside opinions, I can certainly listen,” Professor Sinistra offered.

Harriet thought but finally she nodded. “Yeah, that would be good I think…”

“Good,” Professor Sinistra smiled and strolled to the edge of the forest to sit on a fallen log.

Harriet followed and sat as well.

“So, I take it people are not responding particularly well to what happened last night?” Professor Sinistra asked.

“No,” Harriet said.

Professor Sinistra nodded and took a sip from a small water-bottle that she had clipped onto her hip. “It’s never easy being the odd person out,” Professor Sinistra said. “I know how that feels.”

“You do?” Harriet asked. She couldn’t tell if she was sceptical or hopeful.

“Yes,” Professor Sinistra said. “I don’t know how entirely appropriate a discussion it is to have with a student, but… I never got to finish my education in a proper school environment.”

Harriet looked up at Professor Sinistra again. “Why not?”

Professor Sinistra gave Harriet a strange smile. “Well, you’ve met both of the reasons already.”

“Ohhhhh,” Harriet nodded. Then she paused. “But… if that kept you out of school—”

“I was seventeen when I had the girls,” Professor Sinistra said. “Just before Christmas of my senior year—”

“Your what?” Harriet asked.

Professor Sinistra laughed softly. “It’s how the final years four years of secondary schooling work in America. You, as a fourth year here in Britain, would be called a Freshman, or a ninth grader, back in the US.”

Harriet nodded. This combined with everything else that was happening was starting to make her feel a little overwhelmed.

“And, for example, someone like Katie Bell or Taylor Middleton would be considered Sophomores, or tenth graders, while Fred and George would be Juniors and Cedric and Ben Jackson would be Seniors, you see?”

“Ohhhhh okay, I got it,” Harriet said, cottoning on.

“Anyway, that’s a whole other story and probably not appropriate,” Professor Sinistra went on. “When school started and I hoped my friends would understand but…”

“They didn’t?”

Professor Sinistra shook her head and took another drink of water. “Nope. Eventually the shaming and bullying got so much that I dropped out. My mom and dad took over teaching me after that so I did get my final education.”

Harriet took that in, looking up at Professor Sinistra with new eyes. Harriet had been through a lot, but none of it had meant she’d had to leave school. It hadn’t meant all her friends had turned on her.

“So, enough about all that,” Professor Sinistra said. “What’s the issue with your friends?”

Harriet’s smile faded now. “Well… I don’t know… three of my best friends are mad at me about it…”

“I see…” Professor Sinistra said. “You mean they don’t believe you?”

“Well… as far as I can tell they _do_!” Harriet said, exasperated. “Well at least Kieran does! But he’s mad because I won’t drop out, even though I told him how I can’t at this point. Mr Crouch explained how my name coming out of the Goblet put some sort of contract on me and I’ll be obsessed with the tournament from here on until I finish it.”

“Yes, I can see how that would be a bit infuriating,” Professor Sinistra said.

Harriet nodded, continuing now that she felt there wasn’t’ a biased towards her.

“Dora, I guess, does think I did and I’m putting myself in more danger because apparently she thinks I like it. My other friends say the real reason is because both of them fancy me, and that Ronnie isn’t talking to me either because she fancies Dora which I just totally don’t get why she has to take it out on me because of it!”

At this point, Harriet paused and wiped at her eyes, unware when she’s started crying. Not only that, she was breathing heavily and had gotten to her feet without realizing it. She walked back toward Professor Sinistra, retaking her seat on the log.

“Hm…That does complicate things doesn’t it?” Professor Sinistra said. “How do you feel towards them Harriet?”

“I just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think of any of it. Kieran’s so nice and I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone but he’s like…”

“A brother?” Professor Sinistra prompted when Harriet trailed off.

Harriet nodded and continued. “And Dora… I just… I only really figured out this summer about stuff like that…”

Professor Sinistra didn’t respond and Harriet looked up at her to see her eyebrows raised.

“I… I never got out much with the Dursleys, and well I stayed at the McIntyres where both Ari and Taylor of Hufflepuff were staying… but Daniel and Remus kind of explained it all to me this summer.”

“Ah… oh dear,” Professor Sinistra said, her voice full of irony. “I’m sure that went _perfectly_.”

“Yeah…” Harriet sighed. “It… answered most of my questions but not all of them.”

Professor Sinistra studied Harriet for a moment and her smile returned. “Make you a deal, Harriet.”

“Oh?”

“Yep,” Professor Sinistra’s smile grew. “Well, I suppose I will have to clear it with Professor Dumbledore, but I doubt he’ll mind. Anyway, you agree to meet me at the front doors, seven am sharp, and we can go for a run every morning to clear our heads, and we can have proper discussions about growing up and answer your questions. We can start slow if you want. Just talk when you feel the need. Deal?”

Harriet was about to respond but paused. “Ummm, I don’t really have anything to run in.”

Professor Sinistra laughed. “Somehow I don’t think finding something to wear will ever be a problem for you, Harriet.”

“Oh… right,” Harriet blushed and smiled as Daniel’s smiling face flashed across her mind.

“I’ll stop in to Daniel’s shop and see about getting you some running clothes,” Professor Sinistra said. “So don’t worry about that. Now then, do we have a deal?”

Harriet smiled wider as the bell to signal the end of breakfast and the start of lessons rang in the distance. “We have a deal.”

## * * * *

Harriet sidled up to Hermione and Marcus at their table in the fourth year Herbology greenhouse.

“Sorry,” she said at once. “I know you guys are being here for me and sorry I snapped…”

“That’s okay,” Hermione said at once.

“Yeah, honest, we get you’re upset,’ Marcus said.

Harriet glanced over at another table where Kieran was working with Dean and Seamus, and yet another where Ronnie was working with Lavender and Parvati. Both Kieran and Ronnie seemed to be determinedly not looking at her. In spite of how much talking with Professor Sinistra had cheered Harriet up, she couldn’t keep down the renewed sense of resentment rising once more.

The rest of the class did not help Harriet’s mood. The Hufflepuffs in particular were all giving Harriet dirty looks. Even Professor Sprout was short with her and told Harriet off for improperly handling her Bouncing Bulb when it wriggled out of Harriet’s grip and smacked her in the face, which drew an unpleasant bout of snickering from the Hufflepuffs.

Harriet supposed she couldn’t really blame them. Cedric was their champion, and the first person to bring any real glory to Hufflepuff house for many years. From what she overheard Zacharias Smith gossiping about rather loudly, it seemed the Hufflepuffs were angry with the Gryffindors for more than just Harriet. They were also angry with the Gryffindors over Ben Jackson getting the Head Boy spot over Cedric as well.

“What sour grapes,” Hermione said as Professor Sprout dismissed them. “Benjamin does just as well in lessons as Cedric does, and he’s proven himself a good leader and brave and kind as well. Besides, the Americans needed something to legitimise their place here in the school more than Hufflepuff needs ‘glory.’”

“Hey now,” Isabella Martinez said. “Not all of us are in Smith’s camp.”

“Hell no,” Jeremy said, scowling at Smith’s back as Smith left the greenhouse. “I’m so sick of his shit.”

“Jeremy!” Isabella hissed giving a significant nod to Professor Sprout who was standing nearby.

“Well I am!” Jeremy retorted, though he did keep his voice down.

“Well he’s moderately nicer to you than he is to us,” said Avery McGee, one of the blonde American twins who had been sorted into Hufflepuff with her sister Ellery.

“Yeah, seriously what is his deal?” Ellery grumbled.

It was then, as they exited the greenhouse heading towards the school, that Harriet noticed something. Aside from Hermione, Marcus, Isabella, and Jeremy, all of the students around her were refugees.

There **were** the McGee twins from Hufflepuff, as well as AJ, Tori, Rachel, and Jackson. But it wasn’t just them, either. They were joined by Ari Miller and Taylor Middleton, also of Hufflepuff, who had stayed with the McIntyres that summer.

“Sometimes people don’t have deals, Ell,” Ari said. “Some people are just jerks.”

“Yeah, sad really,” Taylor said sighing.

Ari shrugged, indifferently. “Dunno, some people… yeah, just jerks. People don’t always have to have reasons.”

Ari looked down and smiled at Harriet. “Just like some people don’t really have to have a reason to be nice and caring. It’s just who they are, too.”

Harriet felt herself smile. It felt good knowing that not everyone seemed to be against her. It gave her hope that some lessons wouldn’t be as bad as she’d thought. It made their next lesson, a makeup for Monday’s Transfiguration lesson being cancelled, a bit easier to bear.

Harriet would have found Transfiguration more comforting, as it was exclusively Gryffindors, except for the constant reminders of Kieran and Ronnie not sitting with them anymore. The tension was even more palpable, as Rachel, Tori, and AJ kept giving the two ill-tempered looks.

After an even more quiet than usual Transfiguration lesson, it was time for lunch. Harriet regretted her decision to have lunch with everyone else in the Great Hall almost instantly. A wave of jeers and “boos” from the Slytherin table greeted her as she entered the hall. Hermione kept whispering “ignore them” over and over again to Harriet as they passed.

Harriet stole a glance at the Slytherins. She noted, though she’d expected it, that none of the refugees there were booing. However, even though neither were looking at her, Harriet noted that Dora and Draco were not joining in.

The Ravenclaws did not boo, but at least half of them were giving Harriet disapproving looks. Scott was sitting with Atsuko and Tomomi and gave Harriet an apologetic look, giving a sideways nod to the rest of the table. Harriet paused but Hermione took hold of her upper arm and kept her walking.

“He’s trying to talk sense into the rest of the Ravenclaws, don’t worry,” Hermione whispered.

At the Hufflepuff table, there was angry muttering. Harriet supposed that despite their disappointment, the long running good relations between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff house kept the Hufflepuffs from being too openly animus to the Gryffindors.

“This isn’t going to end anytime soon, is it?” Harriet asked as they sat.

No one answered, just giving her sympathetic looks.

## * * * *

After lunch was Care of Magical Creatures. Harriet was dreading this class the most. A whole hour with the Slytherins and the Blast-Ended Skrewts together was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

Sure enough, when they reached Hagrid’s cabin, the bulk of the Slytherins present broke into more boos and jeers at Harriet’s approach.

“Oooooo, it’s the _chaaaaampion_ ,” Pansy Parkinson sneered.

“Is she? Oh goodness, how silly of me to forget my autograph book,” Pixie Fanfarró chimed in, her voice full of irony.

“Hey, even if she _did_ put her name in, she had the courage to try and the Goblet thought she was good enough. That’s more than you can say on anything,” Courtney Thomas spat.

The other Slytherins all glared at her.

“No one asked you, Thomas,” Blaise Zabini snapped back. “What do you even care?”

Courtney tossed her hair. “I care about someone who helped us when the rest of you thought we were trying to kill everyone.”

“Well we wouldn’t really have been mad at you for doing it,” Pansy said as though she was trying to sound reasonable. “We just didn’t think you all were worthy of doing it.”

Courtney started towards Pansy but at that moment Hagrid stepped around the side of his cabin, carrying a towering stack of crates, each bearing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. For once in her life, Harriet was glad for the Skrewts. Hagrid explained to the class that his hypothesis on why the Skrewts had begun killing each other was an excess of pent-up energy and so to help them burn some of it off, they were going to take the Skrewts for walks.

“Take this thing for a walk?!” Draco Malfoy said, disgusted. “And where do we fix the leashes? Around the suckers, the stingers, or the blasting ends?”

“’Roun’ the middle,” Hagrid explained demonstrating. “Eh, but you lot might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, just in case. Harriet, why don’t yeh come here an’ help me with this’un?”

What Hagrid really wanted, however, was to talk to Harriet away from the rest of the class. Once the rest of the class was busy “walking” their Skrewts, he leaned down and spoke to Harriet under his breath.

“So, yer competin’, Harriet. School champion.”

“O-one of them,” Harriet stuttered. “And, I guess not technically…”

Hagrid kept looking at Harriet seriously. “No idea who put you in fer it?”

“No, I—wait, you believe I didn’t do it then?”

“’Course I do,” Hagrid said. “Yeh say yeh didn’ do it, an’ I believe yeh. An’ Dumbledore believes yeh too, an’ Howe an’ the rest.”

“Wish I knew who did,” Harriet muttered.

She turned away from Hagrid to look at the rest of the class. The Skrewts were now almost three foot long, and by the looks of things had grown very strong indeed. They now had thick, grey shells, and looked like crosses between scorpions and crabs. Harriet still couldn’t tell where the heads were, but all were quite capable of pulling even Crabbe and Goyle off their feet when they blasted off.

“Looks like they’re havin’ fun,” Hagrid said happily.

Harriet rather disagreed.

“Ah, I dunno Harriet,” Hagrid said, sighing and looking down at her. “School champion. Ever’thing seems ter happen ter you, doesn’t it?”

“Heh, yes it does…” Harriet grumbled, thinking of Dora, Kieran and Ronnie bitterly.

“Well, all the same, at least yeh got yer friends by yeh though, eh?” Hagrid said, smiling.

“Yeah…” Harriet muttered, miserably.

## * * * *

Almost nothing about Harriet’s first week as a champion was fun. Scott eventually gave up trying to convince the other Ravenclaws, and resumed sitting with them at the Gryffindor table. Ronnie had begun sitting at the Slytherin table with Dora. Harriet was bitterly pleased to see that hardly any of the other Slytherins were pleased about this, and Ronnie looked more than a little uncomfortable about the dirty looks they kept giving her.

The worst part of the week came Friday. Harriet was so upset by this point that she was starting to lose focus in her classes. She did so poorly on Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick’s class that she ended up being the only student besides Neville to get extra homework.

The final straw was that afternoon’s double Potions lesson. The Slytherins were already there when the Gryffindors arrived. A small group of the Slytherins were gathered around Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró who grinned wickedly at Harriet as she approached.

The group turned to face Harriet and Harriet blinked taking in large buttons on all of their robes. For a moment, Harriet thought they were S.P.E.W. badges, but she felt her sense of annoyance rise almost to the breaking point once more as she read the real words.

 

_Support CEDRIC DIGGORY—_

_The REAL Hogwarts Champion_

“What do you think, Potter? Make just the right statement don’t they?” Pansy said, polishing the front of hers with her sleeve and smiling at it proudly.

“And that’s not all, look at this!” Pixie said and she pushed in the centre of the button so it made a metallic popping sound.

Now the badge read: _POTTER STINKS_

“Oh yes,” Hermione said, sarcastically. “Really witty.”

Harriet stole a glance over at Dora who was standing off to the side with her friend Sae. Dora was glaring at the other group, but then caught Harriet’s eye and quickly looked away. Harriet was slightly comforted to note that Dora was not wearing one of the badges.

“Want one, Granger?” Blaise Zabini asked, drawing Harriet’s attention back to the group.

“Careful, Blaise, she might touch you,” another Slytherin girl warned, her eyes glinting maliciously. “No sense having to wash up twice in one day.”

It happened instantly. Marcus stepped forward and drew his wand. Zabini was prepared, and drew his own. Harriet quickly pulled out her own wand and aimed it at Crabbe who was drawing his wand and aiming it at Kieran’s back. At once, hexes began to fly. Harriet hit Crabbe with a Jelly-Legs Jinx that caused him to crumple and drop his wand. She then ducked as another came flying right over her head.

Almost as soon as the hexing started, it was over. Half of the class was already on the floor when the ear-splitting bang rang out and silenced the rest. Harriet surveyed the carnage.

She was one of the few still standing. Several students were rolling about laughing, hit by tickling hexes. Some others had been hit with jelly-legs too. Others, like Goyle, were breaking out in terrible boils.

“What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This?” came the low, clipped voice of Professor Snape.

Harriet looked up at him now. He looked and sounded more dangerously angry than Harriet had ever heard him. His jaw was set and his lips pulled tight. His dark eyes were darting around the students until they settled on Draco, who had also come through unscathed.

Professor Snape pointed at Draco. “Explain,” he said.

Draco hesitated. His eyes moved over Pansy, Pixie, and Blaise, who were all giving him goading looks from behind Professor Snape’s back. He then looked at Harriet. Their eyes met for only the briefest of moments but even then Harriet could see the torment going on behind Draco’s eyes. He looked back at Professor Snape and threw back his shoulders a bit as if preparing himself.

In that instant, Harriet knew what Draco was about to do, and yet she still could not believe it.

“Parkinson, Fanfarró, and Zabini were mocking Granger for being a Muggle-born, sir. Van Der Lakk drew his wand and Zabini tried to curse him but hit Granger instead and then chaos broke out.”

Professor Snape studied Draco long and hard, and Draco stared right back. Finally, Professor Snape spoke. “So, you are saying that both parties are at fault, Draco?” Professor Snape asked.

“Yes, sir,” Draco said.

The students had gone very quiet. Everyone was staring at Draco.

“...Very well then,” Professor Snape said finally. “All those who have been afflicted, to the hospital wing. Everyone else, inside. I’m not going to let your own childishness pass as an excuse to miss out on class. The rest of you will just have to make it up with extra homework. Now, come.”

The students who hadn’t been hit with jinxes and hexes started moving into the room. Harriet grimaced as she saw Marcus kneeling with Hermione. Hermione’s front teeth, which were already overly large, had been engorged so they now extended past her collar.

Harriet stepped into the room and made her way to her usual table. Rachel sat with her, which Harriet appreciated, but then to Harriet’s surprise, Kieran sat on the other side of her.

“Nice shot...” Kieran muttered under his breath. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Harriet said back. In spite of all of that had happened in the past week, Harriet smiled.

Class went extra quietly with so many students gone. Pansy and Blaise, who had survived the scuffle as well, kept angrily flashing _POTTER STINKS_ at her from across the dungeon.

Harriet noted Dora and Ronnie, who were sitting together at a table, giving them more dirty looks, which Harriet also took to feel grudgingly better. A half hour into class, however, the door opened. Harriet expected it to be Marcus returning from helping Hermione to the hospital wing but was surprised to see that it was Colin Creevey.

“Yes?” Professor Snape asked curtly.

“Please sir, I’ve been asked to bring Harriet Potter upstairs.”

Colin was beaming up at Professor Snape but his smile faltered at the look on Professor Snape’s face.

“Potter has another hour of Potions left. She will leave when this class is finished.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. Professor Snape had never seemed to care that she was in his class before.

“S-sir, Mr Bagman wants her... they’re bringing all the champions, I think it’s for the _Daily Prophet_.”

Harriet closed her eyes. Kieran had tensed up next to her but did not seem openly irritated. Harriet saw Dora glowering and Ronnie putting a calming hand on Dora’s arm.

“Very well then,” Professor Snape said, his voice growing even more dangerous. “Potter. Go.”

Harriet didn’t need to be told twice. She packed her things up in her bag as quickly as she could and followed Colin from the room.

“Isn’t this exciting, Harriet?” Colin asked as soon as Harriet closed the door. “You, a school champion!”

“Yeah, great,” Harriet said.

She didn’t bother keeping her displeasure out of her voice. She knew that Colin would remain as oblivious to it as ever.

They reached the room and Colin cheerfully bid Harriet good luck. She gave him a non-committal wave back and Harriet stepped inside. She was in a small classroom. The desks had all been cleared away, except for four which had been lined against one wall and covered in black velvet. There was a line of chairs behind the desk, one was occupied by Ludo Bagman, and another by a woman Harriet recognized as Rita Skeeter, the _Daily Prophet_ reporter who was covering Sirius’ trial.

Harriet also saw the other champions had already arrived. Viktor looked as surly as ever, standing in a corner by himself. Fleur was chatting with Cedric, looking much happier than Harriet had ever seen her. Aello was lounging back in a chair, apparently doing her best to ignore everyone else in the room as she concentrated hard on balancing her wand on the tip of her finger.

Kazunari meanwhile was sitting in another corner. At first, it looked as though he was trying to be alone, too, but then Harriet noticed that he was quickly scratching down notes on a piece of parchment. She was even more surprised to notice that he was using a Muggle pencil, instead of a quill and ink. He spotted her looking and smiled pleasantly at her, but she noted he quickly put away both the parchment and the pencil.

Someone sneezed and Harriet looked around to see another person in the room, this one she didn’t recognize. He was portly, and carrying a large camera like Colin’s, though it was smoking slightly. Harriet noted that he kept stealing glances at Fleur.

Just then, Bagman spotted Harriet and happily bounded up from his chair and into the room. “Ah! There you are, Harriet! Our final champion has arrived! Come on in Harriet, nothing to be shy about, this is just the Wand Weighing ceremony. We’re just waiting for the rest of the judges.”

“Wand Weighing?” Harriet asked.

“Well yes, we have to make sure your wands are all in working order, don’t we! They’ll be your most important tool in the tasks to come, after all! Our expert is upstairs with Professor Dumbledore right now, then there’s going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter, Harriet,” Bagman said in introduction, “She’ll be doing a little piece for the _Daily Prophet_ on the tournament.”

“Maybe not _that_ small, Ludo,” Skeeter said, her eyes for no one but Harriet. “I wonder if I could have just a few minutes of Harriet’s time before we start?” Skeeter asked Bagman. “The youngest of the champions, you know? To add a bit of colour?”

“Certainly!” Bagman said cheerfully. “That is—if Harriet has no objection?”

“Uh—” Harriet managed to mutter before Skeeter took hold of her upper arm.

“Lovely!” Skeeter said and immediately began guiding Harriet out of the room and into a broom cupboard across the corridor.

Harriet held back.

“Now, now, dear, nothing to be scared of,” Skeeter said, gesturing into the cupboard. “Just someplace quiet where we can really get to know each other, alright?”

This did little to reassure Harriet, but she still followed Skeeter inside. Skeeter sat on an upturned bucket, while Harriet took a seat on a cardboard box. Skeeter closed the door, plunging them into darkness. Harriet heard some rustling and squinted as some bright candles lit up, floating in mid-air above them.

“You don’t mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you my dear? It frees me up to speak normally; makes a much more relaxed conversation.”

“Uh… okay?” Harriet said uncertainly.

“Lovely!” Skeeter said, smiling wider, her three golden teeth glinting in the candlelight.

Rita reached into her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out the long, acid-green quill she had been using at Sirius’ trial and a piece of parchment. She stretched the parchment out on a crate of Mrs Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess-Remover and put the tip of the green quill into her mouth. She sucked the quill for a moment, closing her eyes with relish before putting it upright on the parchment, where it stood straight, quivering.

“Testing… my name is Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter.”

Harriet watched the quill. As soon as Skeeter began speaking, the quill sprang to life.

 

_Attractive blonde, Rita Skeeter, forty-three, whose savage quill has punctured many inflated reputations_

 

“Lovely,” Skeeter said as she ripped off the piece of parchment that had been written on and stuffed it into her handbag.

Skeeter leaned over towards Harriet and smiled. “Now, Harriet, what made you decide to enter the tournament?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” Harriet said. She was about to say more when the quill distracted her.

_An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, is the only blemish upon the otherwise alluring face of Harriet Potter, whose dazzling green eyes—_

“Just ignore the quill, Harriet,” Skeeter said, insistently. “Now, why did you enter the tournament?”

“Well, I didn’t,” Harriet said. “I don’t know how my name ended up in the Goblet, but I didn’t put it in.”

Skeeter raised a heavily-pencilled eyebrow. “Now, now, Harriet, there’s no need to be scared of getting into trouble. We all know you really shouldn’t have entered, but don’t worry, our readers love a rebel. Now, was it because of your godfather?”

Harriet had been about to respond but Skeeter’s words made her pause. Skeeter was smiling at her with a smug sense of knowing. “Come now, Harriet, we’re both on the same side here, aren’t we?” Skeeter asked.

“Uh, I-I guess,” Harriet said.

“Lovely. Now, how do you feel about the tasks ahead?” Skeeter said ploughing on. “Scared? Nervous?”

“Um… a bit of both, I guess,” Harriet said. She was beginning to regret not speaking up against this interview.

“Champions have died in the past, haven’t they?”

“Well… they say it’s going to be a lot safer this time,” Harriet replied, doing her best to ignore the scratching of the quill.

“Of course, you’ve looked death in the face before, haven’t you?” Skeeter asked, watching her closely. “And made brave stands against injustice. How would you say that’s affected you?”

“Um.”

“Do you think that the trauma in your past might have made you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Perhaps to try and save the one true family member you have left?”

“Wh-what?” Harriet spluttered.

“Can you remember your parents at all?” Skeeter asked, unrelenting.

“No, of course not, I was only—”

“How do you think they would feel if they knew you were competing? Proud? Worried? Angry? And what about your godfather?”

Harriet felt herself getting more and more annoyed. How was she supposed to know what her parents would think? As for Sirius, she could just ask him, but Harriet couldn’t tell anyone about that.

“I think they would just want me to be safe,” Harriet said. “Like all parents.”

Rita Skeeter’s smile grew. “Yes, of course they would dear.”

Harriet was distracted by the quill once more.

 

_Tears fill those startlingly green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents she can barely remember and the case of her godfather, the only surviving magical family she_

“I do not have tears in my eyes!” Harriet protested, standing up in her anger.

Before Skeeter could say anything else, the door to the cupboard swung open. Harriet blinked in the bright light as she looked around to see who had opened it. Professor Dumbledore was standing in the doorway, looking down on them.

“ _Dumbledore!_ ” Rita Skeeter cried, in apparent delight as she snapped the clasp on her handbag closed.

Harriet noted that the Quick Quotes Quill and the parchment had vanished.

“How are you?” Rita Skeeter asked, standing up and holding out a large, mannish hand to Professor Dumbledore.“I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards’ Conference?”

“Enchantingly nasty,” Professor Dumbledore answered with a twinkle in his eye. Harriet noted that he did not shake her hand. “I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an ‘obsolete dingbat.’”

“Truly the height of modern journalism,” said another voice and Professor Howe stepped into view as well.

He leaned casually against the doorframe and smiled pleasantly at Rita Skeeter.

“Not up to anything too typical of yourself?” Professor Howe asked.

Harriet looked back at Rita Skeeter. Her smile was very forced now as she took in Professor Howe. “Why Professor Howe, how _lovely_ it is to see you again,” Skeeter said through her clenched teeth.

“I’m sure it is,” Professor Dumbledore said. “In the meantime, Rita, I’m afraid that we need Miss Potter back. The Wand Weighing is about to start, and we cannot continue if one of the champions is hidden in a broom cupboard.”

Harriet didn’t need telling twice. She slipped from the cupboard and back into the room. Harriet saw that the other champions were all sitting in chairs along the wall next to the door. Harriet quickly took a seat next to Cedric and looked around. All of the judges except for Professor Dumbledore were sitting behind the velvet covered desks. Rita Skeeter sat in the corner where Krum had been sitting. She immediately took out her quill and parchment again.

“May I introduce Mr Ollivander?” Professor Dumbledore said as he sat at the judges’ table. “He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in proper, working order before the Tournament begins.”

Harriet looked around and her eyes widened as she recognized the small, aged wizard with large, pale eyes standing by the window. Harriet had met Mr Ollivander only once before, when she bought her wand on her eleventh birthday before starting her first year at Hogwarts.

Mr Ollivander stepped forward into the middle of the room now. He held out a hand towards the champions. “Miss Aello, if we could please see your wand first?”

Aello got to her feet and strode towards Mr Ollivander. Her height seemed even more exaggerated than it already was as she towered a whole head and a half over him.

“Ahhh, goodness me, thirteen and a half inches… quite the wand indeed. An interesting creation… I do not believe I recognize this maker’s work?”

“No,” Aello said confidently. “You would not.”

From the judges’ table, Professor Cato gave Aello a cold look and she fell silent.

Mr Ollivander paid her no mind. He continued examining the wand carefully. “However… we have a cypress wand with… my, my… a domovyk hair? Fascinating… I have never used domovyk hair myself.”

“It is the domovyk that lives in my barr—my family’s home,” Aello said.

“Fascinating,” Mr Ollivander said. “Yes… yes, yes, solid despite its length. Very solid, indeed. I can sense great loyalty in this wand… it will never abandon you until its end, or yours.”

Mr Ollivander flourished Aello’s wand and said: “ _Flammeum Gladiis_!”

From the end of Aello’s wand, a great, flaming sword sprang forth. Mr Ollivander spun and twirled it around with relish before extinguishing the blade and handing the wand back to Aello.

“Yes, it is in excellent condition,” Mr Ollivander said.

Aello was looking at Mr Ollivander with surprise. He merely smiled back at her and Aello took her seat again.

“Mademoiselle Delacour, could you step forward, please?”

Fleur rose gracefully and swept across the room to Mr Ollivander, handing him her wand.

“Hmmm,” he said as he held the wand close to his eyes, examining it carefully.

“Yes… nine and a half inches—inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me.”

“An ‘air from ze ‘ead of a Veela,” said Fleur. “One of my grandmuzzer’s.”

 _So Ronnie was right,_ Harriet thought, making a note to tell her, before remembering that Ronnie was avoiding her.

“Yes,” Mr Ollivander said studying the wand even more closely. “I’ve always found that Veela hair makes rather temperamental wands, and so I’ve never used it in the wands I’ve sold… never mind the dangers in procuring them… but if this suits you… _Orchideous!_ ”

A bunch of flowers sprang up from the tip of the wand and Mr Ollivander deftly caught them, before handing them and Fleur’s wand back to her and pronouncing her wand satisfactory.

“Mr Diggory, you next, please.”

Fleur gave Cedric a warm smile as she passed him on her way back to his seat. Harriet on the other hand, glowered at her.

“Ah, now this is one of mine, isn’t it?” Mr Ollivander said, much more enthusiastically, as he inspected Cedric’s wand. “Yes, I remember it well. Containing the single hair from the tail of a particularly find male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands. Nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail, but then not all of us are so lucky as to have our own domesticated herd.”

Harriet felt her temper flaring even more at this, knowing that he was alluding to the McIntyres.

“Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It’s in fine condition. You treat it regularly?”

“Polished it last night,” Cedric said, grinning.

Harriet looked down at her own wand. It was covered in finger marks and little nicks and scratches from her adventures. Harriet took some of her robes and attempted to rub off the fingerprints as discreetly as she could. However, after the dirty look she received from Fleur Delacour after her wand shot a few golden sparks out at her, Harriet stopped.

This time, Mr Ollivander created a long stream of smoke rings from the tip of Cedric’s wand and declared the wand satisfactory before calling up Viktor Krum. Krum slouched forward and held out his wand. He looked as though he was deeply reluctant to let someone else handle his wand.

“Hmm,” Mr Ollivander said, “this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I am much mistaken? A very fine wand-maker, though his styling was never quite what I… however…”

Mr Ollivander inspected the wand closer. “Hornbeam and dragon heartstring?”

Krum simply nodded.

“Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… _Avis_!”

Krum’s wand let off a blast like a firecracker and a small flock of canaries sprang out of the end. They twittered and flittered around the room before flying out the open window.

Harriet watched them, smiling a little before wincing as two black streaks flashed through the little flock, knocking two of the canaries from the air. Harriet knew at once that they were Marcus’ falcon, Adal, and Scott’s kestrel, Ayr.

Someone nudged Harriet’s shoulder. She looked around and saw everyone staring at her. Harriet jumped to her feet quickly and realized it was her turn. She walked up to Mr Ollivander and held out her wand.

“Aaaaah, yes,” Mr Ollivander said, his pale eyes flashing wide open in apparent relish. “How well I remember…”

Harriet remembered too, as though it was yesterday. It was a little over four years ago that she had entered Mr Ollivander’s shop with Hagrid to buy her wand. Mr Ollivander had taken all her measurements, and then he began having Harriet try out different wands.

It had seemed as though they had gone through every single wand in the shop before finally a holly and phoenix feather wand, eleven inches, nice and supple, had chosen her. Mr Ollivander had called this pairing ‘curious’. When Harriet asked him what was curious, he told her how the same phoenix that had provided the feather in her wand, had also provided the feather in Lord Voldemort’s wand.

Harriet had not shared this information with anybody, not even Kieran. She loved her wand dearly, and she considered its relationship to Lord Voldemort’s a mere coincidence at best, something it couldn’t help. Much like how she couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, right now Harriet was really hoping that Mr Ollivander wasn’t about to reveal that information to everyone, especially not Rita Skeeter. Harriet was sure that her Quick Quotes Quill would positively explode if he did.

Mr Ollivander fortunately did not broach the subject. Instead, he fastidiously set to work inspecting every inch of Harriet’s wand. Finally, he conjured a goblet and then shot a fountain of wine from the wand and caught it in the goblet which he bowed and handed to Professor Ilves. Professor Ilves accepted it, though she did not seem all that flattered by the gesture, and did not drink.

Mr Ollivander handed Harriet back her wand, declaring it to be in perfect condition, before finally calling up Kazunari. Kazunari got up and drew his wand. Mr Ollivander held it up and Harriet puzzled over it. The wand looked very familiar, but Harriet couldn’t place it.

“Ahhh, yes, a marvellous creation. A Sashihara creation I believe?”

“Hai,” Kazunari said, smiling proudly.

“I always love a good vine wand. Did it react upon your entering the store?”

“Hai-yes,” Kazunari said, even more cheerfully.

“Wonderful,” Mr Ollivander said. “It is always a treasured moment when a vine wand detects its owner. The last vine wand I sold was four years ago. Oh what a moment it was, the delight in her face as I handed her the wand. I knew at once she would be going places, that one, exceptionally bright and talented.”

At that moment it clicked. Kazunari had the same wand wood type as Hermione.

“Twelve inches, quite bendy… and my word. Sensei Sashihara must have gone to great lengths to get this core. A hair from the mane of a kirin.”

Kazunari simply smiled wider in response.

Mr Ollivander twirled Kazunari’s wand and pointed it at the floor. “ _Dansu no mizu_!”

A jet of water shot from Kazunari’s wand and hit the floor. It splattered and the droplets all formed into tiny dancing figures that twirled about before vanishing in a puff of mist.

“Thank you all,” Professor Dumbledore said as Kazunari retook his seat. “You may go back to your lessons now—or perhaps it would be best for you all to just go down to dinner, as they are about to end—”

“Photos, Dumbledore, photos!” Bagman cried. “All judges and champions. What do you think, Rita?”

“Ah, yes, let’s do those first, then perhaps some individual shots of the champions?”

The photographs took ages. The first problem was Madam Maxime, who cast everyone into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn’t get far enough back to get her into the shot. It was eventually decided that she should sit while everyone else stood around her. Krum kept skulking around the back of the group, as though he was trying to figure out how to stand and not be photographed. The photographer kept pulling Fleur to the front of the group, while Rita Skeeter kept pulling Harriet to the front instead. This made Fleur look at Harriet angrily enough that Harriet was half-expecting her to sprout wings and a massive bird head as the Veela had done at the World Cup.

Finally, the individual shots were over and they were free. Harriet left the room as fast as she could, the first one out. As she did she almost ran into someone.

“Oh, sorry—Kieran?”

Kieran was standing there, looking apprehensive and sheepish.

“Hey—it’s okay—just wondered if you wanted to… you know, talk?”

“Ummm, okay,” Harriet said, feeling a little apprehensive herself.

They headed down a corridor that took them away from everyone else and Kieran stopped once the voices had moved far enough away.

“Look, I’m… I’m sorry about everything that’s happened this week… I’ve… I’ve been a real idiot…”

Harriet didn’t say anything. Although she did find it difficult to keep a scowl from her face and her arms uncrossed.

“I… I know you can’t back out, it’s just… it’s so hard seeing you in danger and in trouble all the time… always worrying about you and…”

Kieran fumbled for words before sighing. “But that’s no excuse… and maybe I don’t deserve it but… forgive me?”

Harriet mulled it over. Her immediate impulse was to say yes. But on the other hand, she was still hurt over how he’d acted. And yet, here he was apologizing and admitting it was stupid.

“I… okay, yes,” Harriet said. “I forgive you.”

Kieran’s face broke into a very sheepish grin. “Thanks…” he said awkwardly.

“Just don’t do it again,” Harriet said, trying and failing to sound stern.

Kieran rolled his eyes but smiled. Then he paused and looked at her shoulder.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Beetle,” Kieran said and made to brush it off.

Harriet heard the buzzing as the beetle took wing and zoomed away.

“Strange, normally don’t see beetles like that this late in the year,” Kieran said. “Anyway, dinner?”

“Yes, please,” Harriet said, and they headed off together.


	19. The Night-Time Stroll

“One must think of their mind as a house, and their body as a foundation. One can have a fine house, but without a strong foundation, the house will not stand for long. Likewise, one can have a strong foundation, but if the house is a shambles, what good is the foundation? One needs both together to live a fulfilled life.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

If Harriet had thought things couldn’t get any worse, she was wrong. The Monday morning after the weighing of the wands, Rita Skeeter’s article for _The Daily Prophet_ came out. The article ended up having less to do with the Tournament and more to do with highly colourising Harriet’s life.

A picture of Harriet took up almost the whole front page. The article continued on to pages two, six, and seven, and was almost entirely about Harriet. Fleur’s name had been misspelled “Fluer Declour.” Viktor Krum’s name had been spelled correctly but the article only mentioned the fact that he’d “lost the Quidditch World Cup.” Aello was referred to as a ‘stoic young man,’ while Cedric and Kazunari weren’t mentioned at all.

Even now, ten days after the article had appeared, Harriet was still getting horrible, twisting feelings of embarrassment in her stomach every time she thought about it. Rita Skeeter had reported Harriet saying a lot of things she had never said in her life, let alone in that broom cupboard.

 

“ _I suppose I get my strength from my parents, I know they’d be very proud of me if they could see me now, and my godfather too. Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about my parents, and it’s been so difficult to focus on the Tournament with my godfather still in trial. But I know that nothing can hurt me now, because they’re watching over me, and soon my godfather will be free.”_

 

The worst part of all, however, came from what Rita Skeeter had asked other people about not just her, but her friends as well.

 

“ _Harriet has at last found young love at Hogwarts. Her close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harriet is rarely seen out of the company of one Kieran O’Brien, a roguishly handsome boy who, like Harriet, has suffered traumatic injury at the hands of dark forces. Kieran was only a babe when Death Eaters attacked his family’s home shortly before the fall of You-Know-Who, and cursed the poor child’s leg. To this day, Kieran cannot walk without assistance, but keeps a brave face to all the world and performs admirably in all his classes._

 

Harriet was used to the torments that the Slytherins had in store for her by now. The worst part was the Hufflepuffs. It seemed they had taken Cedric’s snubbing from the article as an even deeper personal offense. As a result, nearly all of them were now wearing _Support Cedric Diggory_ badges, with the exceptions of Jeremy, Isabella, and the refugees. By the looks of it, almost half of the Ravenclaws had procured them as well.

One exception amongst the Hufflepuffs in particular did catch Harriet’s attention: Cedric Diggory. However, Harriet wasn’t sure if this was because he disagreed with the _Potter Stinks_ part, or the _Support Cedric Diggory_ part. Harriet decided (or rather hoped) it was both.

Kieran had also come into his fair share of unpleasantness, but not nearly so much as Harriet. In fact, Harriet noticed that by the end of the first week after the article, many girls in the school were being much nicer to Kieran than Harriet had ever seen them. They would say hello to him in the corridors, before turning cold eyes on Harriet as they passed.

Harriet could deal with them. It was the fact that Dora was now taking a page out of Professor Snape’s book and pretending that Harriet did not exist at all, that was angering Harriet the most. Ronnie it seemed didn’t know what to do, and so split her time between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. Conversation was usually overly polite when Ronnie sat with them. Harriet supposed that now the ‘truth’ was out about ‘her and Kieran,’ Ronnie didn’t feel the need to sidle up to Dora quite as much.

Harriet was grudgingly glad to see that Dora was sticking up for Ronnie at the Slytherin table whenever Ronnie sat there. She took it as a sign of how scared the other Slytherins were of Dora that they left Ronnie alone.

Harriet was having a difficult time keeping her temper down. She’d begun getting sarcastic and snapping at people in the hallways whenever they would quote parts of Skeeter’s article to her, which had become a twisted pastime of most students wearing _Support Cedric Diggory_ badges. Unfortunately, this meant that every now and then innocent bystanders got caught in the crossfire. One such example was Cho Chang, who Harriet snapped at when Cho stopped her to give Harriet back her quill that she had dropped. Harriet noted that Cho was one of the Ravenclaws who was not wearing a _Support Cedric Diggory_ badge, and thereafter tried a lot harder not to lash out at people no matter how irritated she felt.

Outside all of the less than enjoyable things that were going on, one of the things she was enjoying was the morning runs with Professor Sinistra. Physically, they had been slow going at first. Yet, somehow Harriet couldn’t help but relish the pain and fatigue. It gave her something else to focus on other than the looming first task and the constant taunting in the corridors.

They hadn’t discussed much about Harriet’s friend troubles or any more of Professor Sinistra’s past since. Professor Sinistra said that Harriet was free to speak about those things when she felt ready. In the meantime, Harriet was glad for company that didn’t seem to demand anything of her.

Harriet supposed the tournament wouldn’t bother her so much if she just knew what was coming and could do something to prepare for it. The nights of endlessly worrying were starting to wear heavily on her mind. She wondered if this was part of the contract that Mr Crouch had warned them about.

Fortunately, on the 18th of November, Harriet did get a minor distraction during a particularly interesting History of Magic lesson. The class entered and Harriet was surprised to see not just Professor Stratton, but also General Wengshuk standing by the blackboard.

“Good afternoon, class,” Professor Stratton said as the students all sat down. “Allow me to introduce General Jigme Dorji Wengshuk, headmaster—for want of a better term—at Four Nations. He has kindly agreed to speak to you all today on the history of the Four Nations and how they work differently than here in Europe and in the Americas.”

“It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintances,” Wengshuk said, bowing low to the students.

He rose again and smiled warmly. “So, perhaps for a start, we can see how much you all already know? Who can tell me what the four components of the Four Nations are?”

At once, Hermione’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, my dear?” Wengshuk said, smiling at Hermione.

“The Four Nations are comprised of the Eastern Republic, the Western Kingdom, the Confederation, and the Skylands. Or at least they were until the year 1072 when the War of Southern Expansion ended and the Skylands were completely absorbed by the Western and Eastern Kingdoms.”

“Very good,” Wengshuk said, and Hermione beamed.

Harriet furrowed her brow. “But, Professor, if the Skylands are gone, why are they still called the Four Nations? Shouldn’t it be the Three Nations?”

Wengshuk smiled at Harriet. “Ah yes, one could say it should, but as we’ll discover, one of the most important things to the Four Nations is tradition. With so much ancient history, many are reluctant to let go of the past.”

“So, do they work like the States then?” AJ asked. “Like all one country but divided up-like?”

“No, each entity of the Four Nations is sovereign. The name Four Nations dates to a time when cooler minds prevailed, and thought that peace was possible between them.”

Wengshuk turned to the blackboard and drew a small pouch from his belt. He opened it and poured out a handful of white sand into his palm. He held up his hand and blew across his palm. The sand flew off his hand but instead of falling to the floor, it spread itself over the blackboard in a fine layer.

He then drew a rough outline of eastern Asia with his thumb, which quickly formed itself into a crisp, clear one.

“The oldest to form, according to most archaeologists, was easily the Skylands,” Wengshuk said tapping part of the map which turned orange. “They were located here, stretching from Darjeeling in India, through Bhutan and Arunachal Pradesh—one of the states of India. Settlements have been dated back as far as five thousand years.”

Wengshuk tapped another part of the map on the south-eastern coast of China which turned green.

“Next to rise was, what is now called, the Eastern Republic, which seems to have formed around two hundred years before the rise of the Xia dynasty, in approximately 2400 BCE. Archaeologists have determined that at the time it was primarily fishing villages, stretching from Shanghai to Hong Kong.”

“Before the rise of the Xia dynasty?” Hermione asked. “So, that would mean they existed alongside the Muggles of the time rather than with them?”

“Yes indeed,” Wengshuk replied. “It seems that even in those times, the magical world and the Muggle world did not entirely get along. The exception was the Skylands. Even today, many of the monks who live in the area pine for the time when they could do ‘magic.’”

Wengshuk tapped another spot in the centre of China, which turned red.

“Here we have the formation of the Western Kingdom. It formed around 2200 CE in the area around Qinghai Lake, which is where the capital city of Qinghai exists to this day.”

Next, Wengshuk tapped the island of Taiwan. “And here is where, what is now known as, the Confederation was formed around 2000 BCE. Because of its prominence, most people assume that it was formed in Japan, but really it began here. There was a civil war within the Eastern Empire, and many on the losing side escaped across the sea to what is now known as Taiwan.”

Wengshuk held out a hand. A chair slid across the room to him and he took hold of the top, stopping it. Everyone stared at him but he simply groaned appreciatively as he sat. Harriet at once remembered the flower he had given her after her testimony before the Ministry. _So it was magic after all!_ Harriet thought.

“Sorry,” he said cheerfully. “Body is not quite what it once was.”

“You did that without magic,” Seamus said.

“Without a wand, you mean,” Wengshuk corrected, smiling his good-natured smile. “It is a talent widely taught within the Western Kingdom, where I am from.”

“That’s so cool!” Lavender Brown said. “Do some more!”

Wengshuk laughed, his belly shaking rather like Father Christmas. “Now, I would, but I think we are getting a bit off topic.”

“Indeed so,” Professor Stratton chuckled.

Wengshuk pointed to the spot of green sand again.

“The Eastern Republic, once known as the Eastern Kingdom, and before that the Eastern Empire. At least, those are the closest translations to your language. Its capital is here, in present day Guangzhou,” Wengshuk explained, pointing to a spot on the map.

“You say it’s a republic?” Hermione asked. “Like how the United States works?”

“Yes, my dear,” Wengshuk replied. “It was too large to properly function as a kingdom anymore, and far too populated. It was, in fact, after seeing the example of how the United States maintained itself that the Kingdom became a Republic in 1856 CE.”

“You mean they had a revolution, too?” AJ asked.

“Oh no—well—not a violent one anyway.”

“Really?” AJ asked sceptically.

“Yes,” said Wengshuk simply. “The kingdom was failing, that was clear. Even more clear was the fact that the Western Kingdom was waiting in the wings to seize upon any weakness to claim more territory. After the Western Kingdom’s Great Victory—as it’s known in the Western Kingdom, it’s known as the Great Defeat in the Eastern—of 1846, it was clear that the Kingdom could no longer stand.”

“What was the ‘Great Victory’?” Harriet asked.

“The Western Kingdom finally claiming its route to the sea,” Wengshuk explained.

“A route to the sea?” Seamus asked.

“Yes. For many centuries, the Western Kingdom was completely landlocked. To trade across the sea, they had to pay high tariffs to the Eastern Kingdom. The Western Kingdom’s first attempt came in the year 1053, in the War of Southern Expansion. The Western Kingdom had tried to strike south, through the Skylands, towards the Bay of Bengal. The Skylands were in no way prepared for the onslaught.

“Even less fortunately, the Eastern Empire played just as dirty. They moved east, on the premise of halting the Western Kingdom’s advance to save the Skylands, but really, all they wanted was to control that area as well. They stopped the Western Kingdom’s advance, but did nothing to stop the Western Kingdom from claiming all Skylands’ territory. Thus, the Skylands have not existed on any map for nearly a thousand years.”

Wengshuk sighed sadly and tapped the map again. The red and green areas expanded. The green spread-out the most over the Korean peninsula and all the Southeast Asian peninsula. The red stretched south, replacing all the orange sand that had indicated the Skylands.

“These were the borders from 1072 CE when the war ended, to 1844 CE, when the Western Kingdom began its assault east, towards the Korean peninsula. It was a brilliant coup. The Western Kingdom had spent three years fooling the Eastern Kingdom into thinking they were amassing troops for another attempt to push towards the Bay of Bengal. When they launched their true attack towards the Korean peninsula, the Western Kingdom was in no way prepared for it. It only took two years for the Western Kingdom to claim the entire Korean peninsula, and finally ample access to the sea and trade.”

The map began to move again. Now the green shrank away from the Korean peninsula, quickly replaced with red.

“As for the Confederation, it spread much more peacefully,” Wengshuk explained. “Island by island, the people spread out, colonising at first. From Taiwan, they moved north, reaching the Japanese islands around 500 CE.”

“What about the people who already lived there?” Kieran asked.

“Well, now we see why it is a confederation. The lands decided they had more to gain from working together in trade and defence than they did trying to conquer each other. With the Eastern Empire so close, and hungry for land, the people of Taiwan and the Japanese islands formed an alliance. By the time of the War of Southern Expansion, they had created a weak central government between them, though it existed as little more than a sounding board to address grievances between the various entities. They had also contacted and joined with the people of the Philippines. Today, the island of Borneo is also part of the Confederation.”

Wengshuk smiled around at everyone. “Any questions so far?”

“Where do you live, sir?” Rachel asked. “In the Kingdom I mean?”

“In the Muggle nation of Bhutan,” Wengshuk said. “We are technically a part of the royal family of Bhutan. A rather distant part, as you can imagine. You might consider us the magical version.”

There was a moment of silence as the class digested this. Harriet looked at Hermione who was studying Wengshuk intently.

“So… you’re from the area that was once the Skylands?” Hermione asked, tentatively.

“That’s correct,” Wengshuk replied.

There was another few moments of silence before Jackson raised his hand. “So, you’re like, royalty?” he asked.

“Yes, I am.”

They class bristled with excitement at this.

“It was part of how the Western Kingdom resolved the problem of how to govern such a large area,” Wengshuk explained. “Every one-hundred years, the kingdom changes what family the king comes from. Each king rules for twenty five years, then abdicates to their closest heir. Presently, we are in the reign of the Wengshuks, the first time the Wengshuks have sat on the throne since the cycle began.”

“So who’s the king now?” Ronnie asked.

“My grandson,” Wengshuk replied.

“Does that mean you were a king?” Lavender asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Wengshuk chucked. “No, my dear. I was supposed to be king, but I had proven to myself long before that I was not meant for such a position. When my father abdicated to me, I abdicated to my son, for the reasons I stated before.”

Harriet puzzled this, noting that Wengshuk seemed to be evasive over why exactly he’d abdicated.

“After my son’s reign, my grandson took over. Soon, his son will assume the throne.”

“How soon?” Marcus asked.

“In the year 1998,” Wengshuk explained. “My father reigned from 1923 to 1947. I would have reigned from 1947 to 1972. Now we are in my grandson’s reign.”

“How old will your great-grandson be when he ascends the throne?” Kieran asked.

“He will be seventeen. A year or so younger than most of you.”

Parvati and Lavender became very interested indeed. Basheera rolled her eyes.

“That’s awfully young to be king, isn’t it?” Kieran asked.

“Yes, perhaps it is. But he has a great role-model in his father. I have every confidence that my great-grandson’s rule will be a full and happy one.”

“How many royal families are there?” Dean Thomas asked.

“Seven,” Wengshuk replied.

“So after your great-grandson it will be another seven hundred years until your family sits on the throne again?” Marcus asked.

“Yes. There once were eight...” Wengshuk said, and his smile finally faded slightly. “But not all families agreed with the system, and sought to reclaim the throne and keep it for themselves. So, sadly, the rotation was shortened.”

“What position in line is your family?” Tori asked.

“Last,” Wengshuk said simply. “And perhaps, last of all.”

Harriet remembered something. Daniel had told her how Wengshuk had put down a rebellion and that was how he gained his fame as a general. Harriet wondered if this was the rebellion in question.

“How do you mean the last of all?” Jackson asked.

Wengshuk grimaced slightly. “What must be understood is… we are most likely in the swansong of the Four Nations.”

“How come?” asked Ronnie.

Wengshuk smiled around at the class. “Time. It wears down all things. Take the Confederation. Today, Japan is considering leaving. They are the most prosperous of the entities, and feel that the trade agreements set up within the Confederation are unfair to them. They think they would be better served striking out on their own… and yet, they are the main economic force within the Confederation. If they left, the Confederation would collapse almost instantly.”

There was more silence as the students digested this information.

“So, I suppose this is where I should ask if anyone has any questions while we still have time?” Professor Stratton said, taking advantage of the pause.

Hermione’s hand at once hit the air.

“Yes?” Wengshuk smiled.

“When did the school itself form?” Hermione asked.

“Ah, yes a very good question!” Wengshuk replied jovially. “It formed around the year five-hundred of the common era. It was an agreement amongst the Four Nations as a step in the direction of peace. Students from the powerful families of the nations could come together and study together and learn about and from each other.”

“The powerful families?” Marcus asked.

“Yes,” Wengshuk replied.

“Why not all families?” Tori asked.

Wengshuk chuckled. “Well, it would be difficult to fit the children of a million or so families into one school, would it not? Every Nation has several local schools, one of the most famous being Mahoutokoro in Japan. That being said, the school has had to start drawing on a wider student base over the last few centuries. As the Nations began to drift apart around the turn of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, national pride started to win out, and it became better local politics for students to attend national schools.”

“All politics is local,” Professor Stratton chimed in, drawing another laugh from Wengshuk.

“Too true, too true,” Wengshuk agreed.

“So, that’s how Kazunari and his sister can be in Four Nations even though they’re Muggle-borns?” Parvati asked.

“That’s correct,” Wengshuk replied.

There was a brief pause before Dean Thomas raised his hand.

“Yes?” Wengshuk asked pleasantly.

“Can we see more of that wand-less magic?”

Wengshuk and Professor Stratton laughed.

## * * * *

It was getting closer to the first task and Harriet grew more and more anxious. Three weeks wasn’t nearly as much time as Harriet had always thought it was.

“Well, I mean, even if you don’t do as well as the others, at least you’ll try, right?” Kieran said consolingly as they sat in the library eight days before the task.

Harriet knew that Kieran was only taking this tone to keep making up for his behaviour of the first week after her name came out of the Goblet. Harriet wanted to keep being angry, but somehow she could couldn’t. The return to normality, even if incomplete, of having him back was too welcome and needed at the moment.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied, miserably.

“Oh doesn’t he have anything better to do?” Hermione hissed.

No one needed to ask who she meant. Viktor Krum had entered the library. He seemed to spend most of every day in the library, reading every book he could get his hands on. It wasn’t really Krum that was annoying Hermione. It was the flocks of gossiping girls that followed him everywhere. Even now, there was a small group of them behind a nearby book case, muttering and giggling just loud enough to be irksome.

“I mean, he’s not even that good looking,” Hermione said, waspishly. “They just like him because he’s famous. No one would care if he couldn’t do that Wonky Faint thing.”

“ _Wronski Feint_ ,” Harriet, Kieran, Marcus and Scott corrected her.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

## * * * *

The next day was another Hogsmeade trip. It was supposed to have been the following Saturday, but that was the day of the first task. Harriet had let her friends talk her into going, but Harriet only agreed on condition she went under her invisibility cloak.

What Harriet was the most anxious about was getting to see Daniel and Remus again face to face. While Sirius had been giving her plenty of comfort via the mirror, somehow it just didn’t quite compare to the sight of their smiling faces and hugs.

The group headed down to the town together. It was only her, Hermione, Kieran, Scott, and Marcus. Ronnie was going with Dora. Everyone was taking care to walk in a cluster, Harriet walking in the middle. As they entered the town, Harriet saw the path that led to the Shrieking Shack. There was a stern looking witch and wizard standing either side of the path with a chain stretched across it. A sign hung from the chain declaring:

 

_Closed by order of_

_The Ministry of Magic_

 

A pang hit Harriet’s stomach as she looked up the path. Sirius was there. Only being able to see him in the mirror, she’d forgotten how close he really was. Harriet knew she wouldn’t be allowed to see him if she went up to the Shack, even if she could sneak past the guards. She wondered how this affected Daniel and Remus as well.

For Harriet’s sake, the first place they went was Daniel and Remus’ shop. Harriet felt a warm welling of affection inside her when they reached the shop and saw a large sign declaring: _No Potter Stinks Badges Allowed on Premises._

However, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that the number of students who usually filled the shop was much smaller than usual. “Ah, there you are,” Daniel said from behind Harriet as she made her way through the shop, looking for him.

“How do you always know?” Harriet asked turning around and looking up at Daniel’s smiling face.

Daniel simply smiled and winked.

“Can we talk?” Harriet asked.

“Of course,” Daniel said and began walking to the back.

Harriet felt even more relief back here. The sounds of the students were muted, and she felt a strong sense of peace finally come over her. She pulled off her invisibility cloak at once and took a deep breath.

“Hey Mr D,” the boy named Hyland Stevens said, poking his head out of the room marked ‘Merchandise,’ “I got all the dresses squared away like you asked.”

“Great job, Hy,” Daniel said, smiling.

Hyland smiled back before he paused recognizing Harriet.

“Oh, hello, Harriet!” Hyland said cheerfully. “Crazy about that cup business, isn’t it? Daniel says they still haven’t found out who did it?”

“No, we haven’t,” Daniel said, his smile fading. “But we will. And in the meantime we’ll make sure Harriet’s plenty safe.”

“Maybe he’ll tell you what the task is,” Hyland said miserably. “He won’t tell me anything.”

“You don’t need to know,” Daniel said, his smile returning. “And the moment I do tell you, the whole school will know what it is.”

“Hey, I keep secrets better than that!” Hyland retorted.

Daniel laughed. “Right, you wouldn’t be at all tempted to tell Antoinette? Who would undoubtedly tell her friends, who would tell their friends?”

Hyland rolled his eyes and Daniel chuckled before leading Harriet into his office. It was just as untidy as ever and Harriet smiled around affectionately.

“So, how’re the running sessions going?” Daniel asked, gesturing to Harriet to take the seat in front of his desk. Harriet sat and Daniel took the seat behind his desk.

“Really good, actually,” Harriet said. “We don’t talk much yet, but it is nice getting out. My legs hurt _so_ bad after the first few days, though.”

Daniel chuckled. “Well, if you want to be an Auror someday, better keep in shape,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Harriet gave him a quizzical look, prompting Daniel to chuckle some more and nod his head towards the wall that separated them from Remus’ office.

“Oh, right,” Harriet said.

“That and been talking with old Mad Eye,” Daniel said smiling. “He’s quite impressed with you, even if he doesn’t show it. Particularly with how well you threw off the Imperius Curse.”

“He told you about that?” Harriet asked.

Daniel twisted his lips a bit. “Yes. I can’t entirely say I approve, but I suppose at once it’s the safest to demonstrate, and yet the one you’re most likely to encounter.”

Harriet thought. “I… I guess I can see that,” she said.

“So, about the first task,” Daniel said, changing the subject.

Harriet felt herself go rigid.

“Well… I promised Dumbledore that I won’t tell you what the first task is.”

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

Daniel sighed. “Things are hard enough on you now as it is, Harriet. Could you imagine how people would treat you if you competed and it was obvious you were being walked through the tasks while the other champions weren’t?”

“Oh, yeah good point,” Harriet admitted glumly.

“However,” Daniel said, his eyes twinkling again. “He did not say I was not allowed to give you advice without telling you what the task is.”

Harriet blinked. “But how could you do that?”

Daniel’s smile grew. “Well, for instance, I can say that for your first task, all you’re allowed to bring with you is your wand. However, there’s nothing in the rules saying you can’t _summon_ other things you might need, for instance.”

“Summon?” Harriet asked.

Daniel nodded. “Exactly.”

“But, what would I need?”

Daniel looked off thinking. Harriet wasn’t sure if he was thinking of an answer, or thinking of how to answer it without telling her too much.

“Well, what’s your best talent? Outside of lessons, let’s say?” Daniel prompted.

Harriet thought. “Well, Quidditch.”

Daniel’s smile returned rapidly. “Very good. And so…?”

“So… I should… summon my _Firebolt_?”

“Hmmmm, a very good question, isn’t it?” Daniel said enigmatically.

“But, why would I need my broom?” Harriet asked.

Daniel simply kept smiling. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll realize why at the first task, Harriet. But I’ve seen you fly, and I’ll tell you this: once you’re on that broom, nothing will stop you.”

Harriet blushed brightly. At that moment there was a knock on the door and Hyland poked his head in.

“Hey guys, um Harriet’s friends are looking for her.”

Daniel gave Hyland a wave of acknowledgement and Hyland disappeared from sight again. Harriet decided it’d be best not to let her friends worry and gave Daniel a hug goodbye before re-joining them.

They made their way to Zonko’s and Honeydukes’, before making their way to the _Three Broomsticks_. As they entered, Harriet paused on the threshold. She’d just been struck with the memory of the Hogsmeade trip the previous Christmas, where she snuck in and overheard Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge telling Madam Rosmerta about Sirius. The shock of learning that Sirius was her godfather and how everyone thought he’d betrayed her parents washed over her again for a moment.

But that wasn’t the worst shock. The worst shock was hearing how Sirius had interests much like hers. Even worse was hearing the way Professor McGonagall spoke about it, further digging in the nail Harriet’s aunt had stuck in her that horrible summer day.

 

_FREAK!_

 

Harriet gave her head a shake and hurried after her friends before someone could run into her. They made their way to the corner where they usually sat. Harriet remained under the cloak while Hermione and Marcus got everyone butterbeers.

“Almost feels like old times,” Marcus said.

Harriet couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or not. No one else laughed.

“Well, you lot missed Rita Skeeter at least,” Jeremy Owen said as he and Isabella Martinez from Hufflepuff joined them at the table.

“Yeah, she just left five minutes before you got here,” Isabella said before smiling at Harriet’s apparently empty chair. “Hi, Harriet.”

“Uh, hi,” Harriet said awkwardly, keeping her voice down. “How’d you know it’s me?”

Isabella smiled a little, awkwardly. “Well, your chair pulled itself out all on its own…”

“Oh, right,” Harriet said, kicking herself in her mind.

Jeremy chuckled. “Seriously, though, she’s a right piece of work.”

“Skeeter?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “She’s always trying to drag my parents’ names through the mud.”

“How come?” Hermione asked.

Jeremy snorted. “We’re too sympathetic to werewolf rights,” he said taking a swig from his butterbeer and glowering.

“Well, you know none of us are going to fault your family for that,” Hermione said, trying to sound more cheerful. “Even if you weren’t… well, you know.”

Jeremy smiled to himself.

“How’s your efforts with S.P.E.W. going, Hermione?” Isabella asked.

“Um, alright,” Hermione said evasively.

That subject was dropped rather quickly. Harriet noted that neither Jeremy nor Isabella were wearing S.P.E.W. badges either.

“So, did Professor Wengshuk talk to you guys about Four Nations too?” Scott asked Jeremy and Isabella.

“Oh yes, he did,” Isabella said. “It was fascinating.”

“Can’t believe he gave up being _king_ ,” Jeremy said. “I mean that’s like… I don’t even…”

“Me either,” Harriet said. “But it’s kind of cool, too, when you think about it.”

“Yeah, agreed,” Marcus said.

Harriet felt her attention wandering around the room. She started to feel a twinge of jealousy as she took in all the other students, just talking and laughing and enjoying themselves. Under any other circumstance, Harriet would be one of them; gossiping about the champions, speculating about the tournaments, actually enjoying herself. But no, here she sat in secret under her invisibility cloak, pretending not to exist.

She thought a bit about the other champions. Cedric had a ready, cheerful gang of followers with him everywhere he went. He looked in good spirits every time Harriet saw him, but his smiles always seemed more forced than the ones she remembered.

Harriet would occasionally pass Fleur in the corridors. As ever, Fleur put on her air of unruffled and haughty smugness as she passed. Viktor Krum spent all of his time in the library, poring over every book he could get his hands on.

Kazunari spent his time wandering the grounds. Harriet noticed that during the morning post, he would always look anxiously for an owl that seemed to never come. Harriet supposed he was waiting for a message from his family back home in Japan. Aello on the other hand seemed to be keeping entirely to herself. The only time Harriet ever saw her was at meals.

“Ello you lot,” came the cheerful voice of Hagrid.

Everyone turned to look up at him. Harriet was surprised to see Professor Moody standing with him. The sight of Professor Moody apparently gave everyone else pause as well. They were all looking up at him uncertainly.

“Well what might you lot be up to, off here in the corner?” Professor Moody asked.

Everyone exchanged glances. Even though they weren’t up to anything, the tone of Professor Moody’s voice had a way of making one feel as though they were.

“Hah,” Professor Moody laughed. “I meant nothing by it. Smart, sitting in a corner. One of the safer areas as it gives you a complete view of the room, particularly in an establishment such as this with limited entrances and exits.”

Professor Moody pointed with his walking stick towards the single entrance and exit from the pub.

“Oh, y-yes, you’re right,” Hermione replied, awkwardly.

“Well lucky us then that we’re in ‘Ogsmeade an’ not sum’ere else, where getting’ attacked would be a worry then, eh Alast’r?” Hagrid asked, trying to sound assuring.

Professor Moody rolled his normal eye and took a swig from his hip-flask. Harriet noted that Madam Rosmerta gave Professor Moody a very cold look as he did this. She figured that Rosmerta must be taking this act as an insult to her mead. Harriet, however, knew better. Professor Moody had told them all about how many times dark wizards had attempted to poison him, and therefore he only ever drank from his hip-flask.

Just then, Professor Moody leaned over towards Harriet as Hagrid struck up a conversation with Jeremy. “Nice cloak, Potter.”

Harriet looked up at him, bewildered. Professor Moody grinned his horrible grin and winked.

“Can your eye see through—”

“Yeah, it can see through invisibility cloaks. And it’s come in handy more than a few times I don’t mind telling you.”

Hagrid smiled too and leaned over the table towards Harriet.

“Harriet. Meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak.”

Hagrid straightened up. “Nice ter see yer all,” Hagrid said loudly and cheerfully.

He and Professor Moody headed back off towards the bar.

“Why does he want to meet you at midnight?” Kieran asked.

“I don’t know,” Harriet muttered.

“How did he even know you were there?” Marcus asked.

“Mad-Eye said his eye can see through invisibility cloaks.

Isabella’s face went pale at this. “Okay, that’s… creepy in a way I hadn’t thought of before…”

“What’s that?” Kieran asked.

“If his eye can see through invisibility cloaks…” Isabella said, trailing off but giving the whole table an expectant look.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione said. “I… I hadn’t thought about that before…”

Harriet felt her own stomach churn a little bit. If Moody’s eye could see through invisibility cloaks, it could easily see through normal clothing as well, couldn’t it?

There was another pause at this before Marcus gave a brave smile. “I wonder where he got it…” he said, his smile growing a little cheeky as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Hermione bounced a crumpled up piece of parchment off his forehead.

## * * * *

It was quarter to midnight before the common room cleared out enough for Harriet to sneak out through the portrait hole. She had to wait for the Creevey brothers to finish their work. They had managed to get their hand on a box of _Support Cedric Diggory_ badges and were attempting to re-charm them to read _Support Harriet Potter_ instead. Unfortunately, all they’d managed to do was get the badges stuck on _Potter Stinks_.

The castle seemed mostly deserted. Quietly as she could, Harriet undid the latch to the front doors and slipped outside. The moon was still mostly full, and so Harriet had little trouble making her way across the grounds towards Hagrid’s cabin. The only lights in the grounds that Harriet could see were coming from Hagrid’s cabin and the Beauxbatons’ carriage. By the looks of it, all the other schools had gone to bed.

Harriet knocked on Hagrid’s door.

“That you, ‘Arriet?” Hagrid asked in a whisper as he cracked the door open.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Harriet replied. She stepped into the cabin as Hagrid held the door open more and took the hood of the cloak off her head. “What’s up?”

“Got summat ter show yeh,” Hagrid said, almost trembling with excitement.

Harriet took in Hagrid’s appearance. He wasn’t wearing his horrible suit, and he had not put any axle grease in his hair, but Hagrid had distinctly tried to clean himself up. There were the broken teeth of combs in his hair, and he had a flower that looked more like an artichoke pinned to his lapel.

“And what are you showing me?” Harriet asked, cautiously. She had a sudden suspicion that the Blast-Ended Skrewts had laid eggs.

“Just come with me and keep quiet-like. An’ keep under the cloak. Won’t bring Fang, ‘e won’t like it.”

Hagrid opened the door and stepped outside. Harriet furrowed her brow and followed, far from reassured. She was surprised however to see that they were heading to the Beauxbatons carriage. Hagrid knocked on the door three times.

Madame Maxime opened the door. She was wearing a silk shawl around her shoulders and beamed down at Hagrid. “Ah, ‘Agrid, is it time?”

“Bong-sewer,” Hagrid said, beaming back and holding out a hand for Madame Maxime as she descended the staircase.

Harriet felt her eyebrows rise very high on her forehead as Hagrid held out his arm for Madame Maxime and she took it, the pair heading off towards the paddock which now contained the Beauxbatons’ giant, winged horses. What was Hagrid up to? Surely he wasn’t showing Harriet Madame Maxime. Harriet could see her anytime.

“Wair is it you are taking me, Hagrid?” Madame Maxime asked.

_Hmmm, so apparently this is a surprise for her too_ , Harriet thought.

“Yeh’ll enjoy this,” Hagrid said. “Worth seein’, trust me. Only don’t go tellin’ no one I showed yeh, right? Yeh’re not s’posed ter know.”

“Of course not,” Madame Maxime said, batting her eyelashes.

Harriet did her best not to giggle.

They had just rounded a bend in the forest that put both the castle and the lake out of sight when Harriet finally heard it. There was the sound of voices, followed by an ear-splitting, ground-shaking roar.

The trio rounded another clump of trees. Harriet stopped, frozen in place at the sight. There was six of them, massive and towering over the scrambling human figures below them.

_Dragons_.

Harriet squinted and held up a hand to shield her eyes from the burning light as the nearest of the dragons fired a jet of flames from its mouth some fifty feet in the air. It was bright green and its eyes were bright gold. It had two golden horns protruding backwards from its head just over its eyes. It shot a long, narrow jet of flames at some nearby figures who dodged it, shouting.

The next dragon was a dark green, with a short, thick neck and blunted snout. Like the first, this dragon had golden horns over its eyes. The difference was instead of going backwards, these pointed straight forward like a bull’s.

The third dragon was jet black with bright purple eyes. It had a more lizard-like face than the second, and big, bat-like wings with a big, hook-like claw protruding from the front edge of each.

The fourth was scarlet in colour. It had large, black eyes and a short-ish snout like the third. Its face was lined with golden spikes and. The flames that shot out of its gaping mouth furled out in a mushroom formation.

The fifth was a silvery-blue, and seemed to produce flames of a similar colour as it tried to drive off the figures surrounding its paddock. Even at this distance and through her cloak, Harriet could feel the heat of this dragon’s flames. Its movements however were much more ungainly as it moved around, as unlike the other dragons, this one had no forelimbs.

The final dragon had the same body structure as the fifth, but had black scales like the third. Its face was the most lizard-like of the group, though it had bronze horns on its head and bright yellow eyes. Its roar was more like a screech, and even more horribly, it had large bronze spikes, rather like a stegosaurus Harriet saw in her old schoolbooks before coming to the magical world.

Harriet took in the figures now. There looked to be a half-dozen or so per dragon, pulling on heavy chains that connected to thick leather straps around the dragons’ legs and necks.

“Keep back there, Hagrid!” shouted a wizard nearby, straining as he held tight to one of the chains connected to the horned tailed dragon. “They can shoot fire to about twenty feet you know? I’ve seen this Horntail do forty!”

“Isn’ it beautiful?” Hagrid said wistfully.

“It’s no good!” shouted another of the wizards. “Stunning spells, on the count of three!”

“ _Stupefy!_ ” the handlers all shouted in unison.

The bright red jets of the spells flashed through the air and collided all over the dragons. The dragons writhed but their roars cut off at once. They slowly teetered and then collapsed to the ground, causing it to quake and Harriet could hear the groaning of the trees around them shaking.

The witches and wizards around the dragons quickly moved forward. They attached the chains to heavy, iron spikes that they drove deep into the ground with their wands. Not all of the handlers seemed happy. Many were arguing in a language Harriet couldn’t understand.

“Wan’ a closer look?” Hagrid asked Madame Maxime. They walked right up the fence, Harriet still secretly in tow.

The wizard who had shouted to Hagrid earlier walked towards them. Harriet felt her heart skip as she realised who it was: Charlie Weasley.

“All right there, Hagrid?” Charlie asked, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “They should be okay now. We had put them out with a Sleeping Draught to bring them here. We thought they might prefer to wake up in the dark and quiet… seems we were a bit wrong about that.”

“I’ll say!” another figure shouted from nearby.

“You should haff staggered zeh doses so zey voke up vone at a time!” shouted another, with a deeply Slavic accent.

Charlie rolled his eyes turning back to Hagrid. “Rangers from the High Council,” Charlie explained. “When we requested that Romanian Longhorn they insisted upon sending their own people to monitor it, given how rare they are.”

“What breeds you got here, Charlie?” Hagrid asked, looking at the dragon Charlie had been helping to wrangle with reverence.

“Well this here’s a Hungarian Horntail,” Charlie said. “Over there that green one with the horns going back? That’s a Common Welsh Green. Over there that other black one’s a Hebridean Black. That other green one there’s the Romanian Longhorn; rare them. That one there is a breeder so like I said the Romanians and the High Council are really protective of it. That silver-blue one’s a Swedish Short-Snout, and the red one’s a Chinese Fireball.”

Charlie looked around at Madame Maxime, who was walking along the fence, studying the dragons and gave her a sceptical look.

“Didn’t know you were bringing her, Hagrid,” Charlie said. “The champions aren’t supposed to know what’s coming, are they? She’s bound to tell her champion.”

“Jus’ thought she’d like ter see ‘em,” Hagrid shrugged, still gazing longingly at the dragons.

“Charming date idea,” Charlie said sarcastically.

“Six… so one for each of the champions then? What they got ter do, fight ‘em?”

“No, just get past them I think. They wanted nesting mothers for some mad reason. Makes them even more vicious than they normally are, which is saying something when it comes to that Horntail. Nasty piece of work that one, almost as ornery as that Norwegian Ridgeback, Norberta.”

“You mean Norbert?” Hagrid asked.

“No, Norberta!” Charlie laughed. “Turned out to be a girl; explains her aggression a bit.”

Charlie turned to watch a group of five wizards grunting and holding on to a large blanket stretched out between them, carrying something heavy. They set the blanket down as gently as they could beside the Horntail and Harriet saw a large clutch of granite-grey eggs. At the sight of them, Hagrid gave out a moan of longing.

“I’ve got them counted, Hagrid,” Charlie said warningly. “How’s Harriet, by the way?”

“Fine,” Hagrid said, distracted.

“Just hope she’s fine after this…” Charlie said leaning against the fence. “Mum was having kittens about her after that damned Skeeter article. Didn’t dare tell her about this after that.”

Charlie cleared his throat and imitated his mother’s voice almost as well as Fred and George could. “ _‘How could they let her enter that Tournament, she’s much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was an age-limit! She still cries about her parents? Oh bless her, I never knew!_ ”

Harriet grimaced.

“Well, if it gets too bad, we’ll be on hand,” Charlie said. “So I suppose there’s nothing really to worry about except her pride if we have to step in.”

Harriet felt her cheeks flush quickly and felt a small surge of confidence inside her. If Charlie was more worried about how Harriet would feel about failing than actually getting hurt, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

The Horntail gave a rattling snore that shot out a jet of flames and Harriet felt the confidence drain away at once. How would they be able to stop the dragon she had to face in time if it hit Harriet with a jet of fire like that?

She stole a look at Hagrid. He was still too enraptured with the dragons to notice, and Harriet was quite sure that he’d forgotten she was even there. Harriet started moving away, back to the castle.

She was trying to decide how she felt having seen the dragons already. She supposed that knowing ahead of time like this was better. If she’d seen them for the first time on Saturday, she supposed she’d just collapse on the spot.

Harriet looked down at her wand. How was this supposed to stand up to a dragon? Daniel had suggested she summon her _Firebolt_ , but how would that help either? The dragons could all fly by the looks of it, and if they could shoot their fire twenty to forty feet, how would she get close enough to get past one? Unless all she had to do was fly totally over one.

Harriet shook her head and continued walking. There was a cracking noise beside her which caused Harriet to stop and turn. Before Harriet could even blink, there was a flash of steel and something heavy and wooden hit her, knocking her backwards onto the ground.

“You! Under the cloak. Your name! Speak!” growled an aggressive, commanding voice above her.

Harriet rubbed her lower back which had landed on a root and looked up at her attacker. The figure was tall, perhaps six feet. The figure looked masculine, but the voice had sounded feminine.

The figure shifted and Harriet realized that the bulk of the figure’s frame was actually made up of a large round shield that covered the figure from shoulder to knee. It was indeed a woman as Harriet could see now. Even more ominously, a mere inch from Harriet’s nose was the tip of a short sword. Harriet didn’t notice it until her assailant turned the sword just enough in her hand that it glinted in the moonlight once more. The sword looked to be single-edged, and was much thicker near the tip than at the hilt.

“I said tell me your name,” the woman said again. “Take off the cloak.”

Harriet squinted up at the woman and pulled off the hood of her cloak. She blinked in amazement as she finally recognized who it was.

“Potter?” she asked.

“Aello?” Harriet asked in response.


	20. The First Task

“It is one of life’s great twists that the two worst parts of any battle are waiting for it to begin, and the aftermath. The time when all one can do is obsess over the horrors they will see, and when all they can do is try and comprehend the horrors they saw.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Aello lowered her sword.

“What are you doing sneaking around out here?” she asked.

“Could ask you the same question,” Harriet said, grunting as she got to her feet.

Now that the sword was lowered, and Harriet was over the initial shock, she was feeling distinctly angry at being hit, with what she now took to be Aello’s shield, and forced to identify herself.

“You heard them as well?” Aello asked.

“Heard what?” Harriet replied, still rubbing her back.

“The dragons,” Aello said.

Harriet looked up at her. Aello seemed breathless, and her eyes were so wide that Harriet could see the whites of them easily as they contrasted so starkly with her dark skin in the dark night.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah I did,” Harriet said.

“They are our challenge, are they not?” Aello asked, even more insistently.

Harriet was feeling quite taken aback. If she didn’t know better, she’d say Aello was excited for the chance to take on the dragons.

“I… uh, yeah it seems so,” Harriet answered.

Aello began to pace the little space between the trees, tapping the unsharpened side of her sword’s blade against her shield, as if rousing herself up.

“How many dragons? Did you count them?” Aello asked, pausing long enough to look down at Harriet, desperation in her eyes.

“Umm, well—” Harriet thought, looking up at the much taller, much older girl. She took in Aello’s sword and shield again and an idea came to her mind.

“Yes,” Harriet continued. “But I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?” Aello asked, her tone changing from desperate to threatening so quickly that Harriet was surprised she did not get whiplash.

“Well, I will, when you tell me what you’re doing out here alone with a shield and a sword,” Harriet said, crossing her arms.

Aello scowled. She didn’t answer right away, simply kept studying Harriet as though trying to decide how best to answer evasively.

“There are a lot of interesting things out here,” Aello finally said. “Strong creatures I have never faced before.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. The only person she knew of who liked the forest and found the things in it “interesting” was Hagrid. Perhaps Erica Quoy, George Weasley’s American girlfriend, but Erica at least seemed to respect how dangerous the creatures in the forest were and didn’t readily venture out to look for them.

“Well, yes, there is,” Harriet said. “And most all of them dangerous.”

Aello waved a dismissive hand. “That is the point. I am testing myself. If I can withstand the dangers of the forest I can take on anything else.”

Aello paced some more, glaring slightly in the direction of the dragon paddock. “I should just go look for myself.”

“There’s a lot of people there,” Harriet said. “They’ll probably see you. I only got away with it because of my cloak.”

“You did not see me,” Aello said, sounding a little smug.

“How _did_ you know I was there?” Harriet asked, sincerely.

Aello snorted. “I heard you. I thought you were another creature, but I could not see you, yet you were too loud to be too small to see. So I just guessed that there was someone there. And I was right.”

“Yeah, you were,” Harriet grumbled.

“Besides, the professors at the choosing said that you were in danger, that there was someone trying to do you harm, and I heard someone approaching the school in the middle of the night who was invisible. It was suspicious to me,” Aello explained.

“Oh… right,” Harriet mumbled.

“So, you did not tell me how many dragons,” Aello said.

“You didn’t tell me about the shield and sword,” Harriet retorted.

Aello glowered again. “I cannot… I will not. I am going to see the dragons.”

Aello turned and started off in the direction Harriet had come. Harriet tried to stop her but something made her pause. Aello walked away passing through a beam of moonlight and Harriet finally saw her appearance in full. She was wearing what looked to be a metal breastplate and tight black pants. Harriet couldn’t tell which metal the breastplate was made of. It looked as though Aello kept it dull so it did not shine in the moonlight.

That was not the most ominous part. The part that really gave Harriet pause was what she saw dangling off of Aello’s belt. Harriet grimaced as she recognised the two objects, which were horribly associated with one of Harriet’s worst memories. They were two large, furry objects, which wouldn’t have been identifiable without the foot long, shining black spikes protruding from each. Harriet shivered as she recognized them as the severed fangs of an acromantula.

## * * * *

Hermione, Kieran, and Marcus were waiting for Harriet in the common room when she returned. Harriet wasted no time in telling them all what had happened.

Marcus whistled. “Dragons… blimey…”

“So that’s why Daniel suggested you fly,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“But dragons can fly,” Harriet said.

“Oh Harriet, they’re not going to just let the dragons _loose_ ,” Hermione insisted. “It’s supposed to be safe this year. Letting six dragons loose in the grounds would be a danger to _everyone_ , not just you and the other champions. I’m sure the dragons will be tethered down in some way.”

“Yeah, that’s a very good point,” Kieran said. He seemed to deflate with relief at Hermione’s words. He’d gone rather rigid when Harriet told him there were dragons.

“We should talk to Ronnie,” Marcus suggested. “She knows a lot about dragons through Charlie.”

“That’s a very good idea, Marcus,” Hermione said, approvingly.

“Yeah…” Harriet said. Even if Ronnie was being a bit less of a git towards Harriet since the article, Harriet still didn’t entirely count herself as being on good terms with her.

“What you _really_ need to work on, Harriet, is your Summoning Charm,” Hermione said. She stood up and began pacing.

“Not wrong,” Harriet muttered.

“Oh it’s not that difficult, Harriet,” Hermione said. “You’re plenty gifted at Charms, you’ve just been distracted.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Harriet said.

“Oh hush,” Hermione snapped.

“Well, if you think about it,” Kieran said reasonably, “Before, it was distracting you, but now you have a reason to use what was distracting you as a motivation.”

“That’s… a good point, actually,” Harriet admitted.

“Well, looks like we have some work ahead of us this week then,” Marcus said, sounding more cheerful now.

“Yes indeed,” Hermione said.

“That’s not all though,” Harriet said.

“What else?” Kieran asked. Harriet noted that he was looking apprehensive once more.

“I ran into Aello in the grounds. Well… more she ran into me. Really hard. With a shield.”

“A shield?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah, and a sword.”

“A shield and a sword?” Hermione asked, sitting down.

“I know, it was bizarre,” Harriet continued.

Hermione made a soft “hmmmm” noise, staring off into space, deep in thought.

“What was she doing out there?” Kieran asked. “Alone, at night?”

“How’d she even know you were there? You were under the cloak, right?” Marcus asked.

“Yeah, I was. She said she heard me walking after the dragons werestunned. Anyway, she said she was ‘testing herself’ or something,” Harriet explained. “I think… she’s like, I don’t know, hunting or something.”

“Hunting?” Marcus asked, sounding a little disapproving.

“Yeah, cuz that was the weirdest part. When she was walking away to go check on the dragons, I got a good look at her. She had something hanging from her belt and…” Harriet trailed off, shivering a little.

“What?” Kieran asked.

“It… it looked like acromantula fangs.”

The group fell silent at this.

“Acromantula fangs?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied. “A pair of them. Great big and furry with foot-long fangs coming off them. I’ll never forget those things after Aragog.”

“Were they Aragog’s?” Kieran asked.

“No, they weren’t that big,” Harriet said. “About the size from the two that tried to attack us before the car rescued us.”

Kieran shivered now too.

“Wow… well… she’s going to give everyone a run for their money then,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, if you’re gonna prove yourself, taking out an acromantula would definitely do it,” Kieran agreed.

## * * * *

Harriet was glad that the next day was a Sunday. It gave her the whole day to practice her Summoning Charm with Hermione. They found an old classroom and got right to work. It was slow going. Try as she might, Harriet couldn’t get the hang of the charm.

“It’s really not that difficult, Harriet,” Hermione said as lunchtime drew near.

“Well bully for the charm then,” Harriet snapped.

Hermione crossed her arms. “I don’t _have_ to help you, you know? Technically, I’m not even supposed to.”

“Sorry,” Harriet muttered, feeling ashamed.

“I understand, Harriet,” Hermione said. “But it is a good idea not to turn on the people who’re helping you, all the same.”

Harriet could only nod.

“Well, let’s go down and get some lunch,” Hermione suggested.

Harriet agreed reluctantly. They hurried down to the Great Hall together. Once she began to eat, Harriet was glad of Hermione’s suggestion. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of the dragons and her poor Summoning Charm she hadn’t realised just how hungry she was.

Fifteen minutes into lunch, there was some commotion in the Entrance Hall. Everyone craned their necks to look as the doors opened. General Wengshuk stepped in, smiling warmly towards the Gryffindor table. Halfway down the table from where Harriet and her friends sat, Kazunari leapt to his feet and his face split into a wide grin.

“Mayuyu?!” Kazunari said as he began hurrying towards the door.

Harriet blinked in confusion when General Wengshuk stepped aside. Harriet saw who Kazunari had been talking to. It was a young girl, who looked to be around Harriet’s age, perhaps a year younger. Harriet felt her eyes widen slightly as the girl smiled at Kazunari.

She was very pretty. She had long black hair with a thick row of fringe that came down to her eyebrows, two longer strands that framed her face, and two ponytails situated high on her head. Her brown eyes were bright and twinkling, she had a small button nose, and a mouth that seemed predisposed to smile. She was dressed simply in a blue jumper, a bright red skirt, black tights and flats.

“Kazuzu!” the girl called as she ran.

Kazunari caught the girl up in his arms and spun around in a circle, laughing happily.

“Kazuzu?” Dean Thomas snorted though he quailed under the withering looks from the older Gryffindor girls that Kazunari hung out with.

“Ohhhh, that must be his sister,” Hermione said thoughtfully, smiling on the scene.

Harriet couldn’t help but smile as well. Kazunari quickly took Mayu’s hand and led her over towards the Gryffindor table. Harriet blinked in surprise as Kazunari stopped right in front of her and beamed down.

“Harriet-san,” Kazunari said, grinning ear to ear. “This is my sister, Mayu.”

“Hello,” Harriet said trying to sound as pleasant as she could.

“Mayu, this is Harriet Potter.”

Mayu’s eyes went as wide as Harriet’s had and she at once bowed very deeply. “Konnichiwa, Harriet-senpai!” Mayu said, sounding excessively formal.

Harriet leaned back a bit, taken aback at Mayu’s behaviour. Again Harriet was surprised to see just how far her name really had spread in the magical world.

Kazunari smiled a little. “It is alright, Mayu. Harriet is not so formal as that.”

“Oh, gomen-nasai,” Mayu said, bowing again.

Harriet wasn’t sure exactly what Mayu had said, but by the sound of it, she had apologised.

“No really,” Harriet said awkwardly, “It’s fine!”

“Come on,” Kazunari said putting an arm around his sister’s shoulder. “I will introduce you to the rest.”

Everyone watched as Kazunari led his sister over to the Hufflepuff table, introducing her to Cedric and Aello. As they went, Harriet noticed that quite a few of the boys’ heads were turning to follow Mayu. Even Marcus and Kieran craned their necks to keep her in view. Hermione gave them both a raised eyebrow and they quickly looked back down at their plates, eating determinedly.

Harriet looked back over at Kazunari and Mayu as they moved on from the Hufflepuff table to the Ravenclaw table. She then felt a strange pang in her stomach. Only she, Aello, and probably Fleur knew about (and so could prepare for) the dragons. She looked over at the Slytherin table where Viktor Krum was eating. Krum wouldn’t know either, as far as Harriet knew. Something about that really seemed wrong to Harriet. Yet, how could she let any of the others know without facing awkward questions about how she found out herself.

“Hey, Hermione,” Rachel Kane said, approaching them with Erica Quoy.

“Oh, hello,” Hermione said pleasantly.

“Mind if we borrow you for a bit?” Erica asked.

Hermione blinked in bemusement. “Oh? What for?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Rachel said, grinning excitedly.

Erica smiled too, glancing at Harriet and giving her a significant wink.

“Well, I was working on something with Harriet…” Hermione said.

“Oh this will help, too,” Erica said.

“Yeah, you are helping her with the first task, right?” Rachel asked.

Harriet felt her throat tighten. Hermione apparently thought the same.

“Wh-what? N-no of course not, I’m not allowed,” Hermione said, looking slightly panicked.

“Yeah it’s not that big a secret,” Erica said. “But this’ll help too, we promise.”

Rachel beamed down at Hermione, hopefully.

“Al-alright, I’ll be back to help you out with your lessons as soon as I can, Harriet,” Hermione said reassuringly.

Harriet nodded. She had a whole week left until the first task, but she still felt a hard knot of anxiety building in her stomach as she watched the two girls lead Hermione away. As Harriet watched, she noticed Cedric heading for the door as well with his friends.

Her stomach clenched. Cedric had always been so nice to her. He’d seemed so genuinely pleased that Isabella had brought other students from other houses into the Hufflepuff common room for the first time in years. He’d been so genuinely upset that Harriet had fallen from her broom during the opening Quidditch match the previous year.

Harriet made up her mind at once. She jumped up from the table and followed Cedric and his group of friends from the Great Hall. She grimaced as she followed them down the stairs towards the Hufflepuff common room. How was she going to get Cedric away from his friends to tell him?

Harriet looked at them all. They were wearing the _Support Cedric Diggory_ badges. Somehow, in that moment, Harriet felt her reserve steel itself. She cleared her throat.

“Cedric?”

The group paused and turned. Five pairs of eyes narrowed with disdain as they took her in. Only Cedric’s looked pleasantly surprised.

“Can I talk to you?” Harriet asked. “It’s really urgent…”

Cedric’s eyes narrowed with concern. “Sure,” he replied before turning to his friends. “I’ll catch you all up.”

Cedric’s friends kept looking at Harriet sceptically, but continued on to their common room all the same. Harriet looked around to make sure no one was nearby to overhear and looked up at Cedric, trying to look as urgent as she could.

“Cedric, I know what the first task is, it’s dragons!”

Cedric’s eyes went very wide. “Dragons?”

“Yes!” Harriet said. “There’s six of them, one for each of us. There’s a Hungarian Horntail, a Swedish Shortsnout, a Common Welsh Green, a Hebridean Black, a Romanian Longhorn, and a Chinese Fireball. I don’t know who’s getting which one, but now you know too.”

Cedric didn’t respond for a moment.

“Dragons…” he repeated, sounding disbelieving. “H-how do you know? How did you find out?”

“Not important,” Harriet said. “But Fleur and Aello know too.”

“Then… why are you telling me…?” Cedric asked, sounding more suspicious now that the initial shock had worn off.

“Because… well… because it’s just more fair now!” Harriet said.

“Do Krum and Kazunari know?” Cedric asked.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Harriet said.

“Then, why aren’t you telling them?”

“Well… I… I hardly know them,” Harriet said lamely. “And well… you’ve always been nice to me even when other people haven’t. And trust me, no one deserves to go against those dragons without knowing…”

“That’s… that’s true,” Cedric said.

“Besides, I mean… dragons are like the worst thing there is, right? You’d be ready for anything if you were ready to take on a dragon, right?”

Cedric chuckled a little. “Heh, yeah that… that’s very true. Thanks, Harriet.”

Harriet smiled in relief that Cedric seemed to believe her. She bid him a good afternoon and they parted. Harriet had barely gone a few steps when there was a tell-tale clunking noise approaching her. It was Professor Moody.

“Hello, Potter,” Professor Moody said.

“Hello, sir,” Harriet replied.

“That was a very decent thing you did, Potter,” Professor Moody said, his magical eye looking off in the direction Cedric had gone, his normal eye still fixed on Harriet.

“Oh, th-thanks,” Harriet stammered.

Professor Moody had overheard. And yet, he did not seem upset with her at all. However, would he want to know where she had found out about the dragons herself?

Professor Moody considered her for a moment. “Come along with me, Potter. To my office.”

“O-okay sir,” Harriet said, apprehensively.

Professor Moody gave her one of his gnarled smiles and started to lead her back upstairs towards his office. She kept her eyes on Professor Moody’s back as they went. He gave no sign of being upset. In fact, as they got closer to his office, he began humming to himself in his scratchy voice.

“Here we are,” Professor Moody said unnecessarily as they reached his office. Harriet knew the office well, having spent a fair amount of time there with Professor Lupin, and the unfortunately memorable incident of Filch’s cat, Mrs Norris, being petrified when Gilderoy Lockhart had the job.

Professor Moody unlocked his door and stepped inside. Harriet followed him. The room was much changed from both previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professors’ times. Under Lockhart, it had been full of pictures of himself. Under Professor Lupin, it was often home to some dark creature they had to learn how to counter.

Now, it was full of strange looking instruments. One of which she recognized: a much larger, cracked version of her Sneakoscope that Ronnie had given her for her birthday the summer before their third year. Other objects of interest were a device on a nearby table that looked like an extra bent and twisted television aerial made of gold, and a mirror hanging on the wall beside Professor Moody’s desk which Harriet noted was not actually reflecting the room. Instead, she could see shadowy figures moving around in it, all blurry and out of focus.

“Have a seat, Potter,” Professor Moody said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. He noticed Harriet taking in the room and smiled. “Like my Dark detectors, do you?”

“Oh, y-yes sir,” Harriet replied before pointing to the aerial. “What’s that, sir?”

“Secrecy Sensor. Vibrates when it detects concealment and lies. It’s no use here of course, what with all the students lying about homework. It causes a fair bit of interference. Had to shut off my Sneakoscope over there for the same reason. Wouldn’t stop whistling from the moment I arrived. It’s extra sensitive, you know? Picks up stuff from about a mile around. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s not picking up anything more nefarious…”

Harriet raised her hand and pointed to the mirror.

“What about that sir?” she asked. As she lowered her hand, she paused, noticing her bracelet that Fred had given her the previous Christmas. It was red.

“Ah, that’s my Foe Glass,” Professor Moody said with pride, distracting Harriet. See them all out there, skulking about? I know I’m not really in trouble until I see the whites of their eyes. That’s when I open my trunk!”

Professor Moody gave a harsh laugh and pointed to the large trunk under the window. Harriet noted that it had seven keyholes in a row. Harriet pondered what was inside when Professor Moody called her attention back again.

“So, found out about the dragons, eh?”

Harriet felt her throat tighten. They had come back to the dragons and Harriet warning Cedric.

“Ah, it’s alright,” Professor Moody said, finally sitting down and stretching out his wooden leg, groaning in appreciation. “Cheating’s a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and always has been.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Harriet said. “It… I found out by accident, really.”

“Oh I wasn’t accusing you, lass,” Professor Moody said, chuckling darkly. “I’ve been telling Dumbledore for weeks that he can be as high-minded as he likes, but he can bet Maxime at least won’t be. Ilves is another crafty one. Don’t know much about her, which worries me deeply.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows.

“But she seems to have a good head on her shoulders, keen mind there. And Wengshuk, wouldn’t trust the man farther than I could throw him. It puts on that jolly attitude, but I wouldn’t put much stock in the man responsible for the deaths of thousands of his own countrymen and completely eradicating a rival royal house.”

Harriet’s eyebrows rose even further.

“Hah, left that out of his little lecture series, did he?” Professor Moody asked, shrewdly. “Not surprised.”

“Wh-what about Professor Cato?” Harriet asked.

“Nah, him I’m not worried about. Cato’s too in love with himself over getting his school into the tournament to want to risk it. That girl Aello on the other hand, she’s got the ‘win at all costs’ attitude that could be plenty of trouble. You want to keep an eye on her, take a page out of that Kazunari’s book.”

“Kazunari?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, that boy puts on a good show but I don’t buy it. That notepad he always had with him everywhere he went after he got here. He was taking notes on every one of you, your habits, mannerisms, and so on. He was studying each of you and damn closely. He wants to win just as much as the rest of you.”

Harriet slowly nodded, taking this in.

Professor Moody smiled at her again. “So, apart from that, Daniel and his friend Remus tell me that you want to be an Auror someday, do you?”

“Oh, y-yes sir,” Harriet said, surprised at the change in subject.

“Well, you’re well on your way. A strong mind like yours, you’ll be difficult to fool. Tell me, have you figured out a way past your dragon yet?”

“I—yes sir,” Harriet replied. “Been practicing all morning.”

“Excellent,” Professor Moody said, smiling wider (though not more attractively). “Very good to hear. Don’t play favourites, me, but don’t tolerate fools well either. Stick close to your friends this year, Potter. You’ll go far. Now, off you get. Plenty of practicing left to do before this weekend.”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet said and left.

She exhaled deeply as she left the room. She wasn’t in trouble after all. At least she was relieved about that. However, Professor Moody’s warnings about Professor Ilves, General Wengshuk, and Aello had nestled in her mind. Granted, if Aello had wanted Harriet out of the tournament, she could have done something horrible to Harriet when they met in the forest.

Harriet paused as she got to the end of the corridor. She’d just remembered something else. She lifted her sleeve, looking down at her bracelet once more. She had wondered if perhaps it was like Professor Moody’s Dark detectors now, perhaps it was too sensitive and always picked up secrecy even from far off. It had always been red last year, but she had thought that was because Wormtail had always been around. That was before she knew he was Wormtail, of course.

Harriet blinked as she looked at the bracelet. It had gone back to silver. Harriet looked back at Professor Moody’s classroom. What did this mean? Was it a fluke? Professor Dumbledore trusted Professor Moody, and so did Daniel. Maybe there was someone else nearby when she was in the office and now she’s moved off the person wasn’t close enough?

Harriet shook her head and headed back down the stairs to the Great Hall.

## * * * *

Hermione did not return to help Harriet after lunch. Harriet continued on practicing her Summoning Charm, this time with Marcus, who had always had a knack for charms, if predominately ones of an incendiary nature. Marcus was as helpful as Hermione had been, and by dinner, Harriet had succeeded in getting a pillow to flop over.

“Well that’s better than you have done,” Marcus said, reassuring her as they sat down for dinner.

“Thanks…” Harriet muttered. Her nerves were preventing her from feeling all that enthusiastic.

“Harriet,” Hermione said walking up to her. She looked equal parts excited and anxious.

“Oh, hey,” Harriet said. “What did Rachel and Erica have for you?”

“You’ll see this weekend,” Hermione said. “What’s important is: we found you a Summoning Charms teacher.”

“You did?” Harriet asked. “Wait, ‘we’?”

“Who?” Marcus asked with interest.

“Well…” Hermione said awkwardly and looked down the table.

“Hello, Harriet,” said a dreamy voice from nearby.

Harriet jumped and turned around. It was Luna Lovegood, along with Ginny, Dora’s sister Emma, and the Sinistra twins, Rosie and Nanette.

“Oh, hello,” Harriet said. She opened her mouth to ask what they wanted then paused. “Wait, you’re not my Summoning Charm teacher, are you?”

“Oh no,” Luna said. “But Emma knows who it is.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Emma nodded, smiling.

“And… is anyone going to tell me who it is?” Harriet asked, feeling her sense of irritation rising as it did so easily these days.

“It’s a secret,” Emma said and checked her watch. “She’ll meet you in twenty minutes in Professor Flitwick’s classroom.”

“She?” Harriet asked.

Emma simply smiled and the little group of third and second years headed off for the Entrance Hall. Harriet furrowed her brow.

“Seriously, what’s with all the secrecy this year?” Harriet asked.

Scott shrugged. “I don’t know… secrets seem to be a common thing with us, actually…”

Harriet looked at Scott quizzically. Scott flushed slightly and began eating rather quickly. Harriet felt her throat tighten. What had Scott meant by that? Did he know? Had Kieran told him? He’d promised her he wouldn’t tell anyone.

Harriet gave Kieran a hard look. Kieran was looking back at her. His eyes were wide, as though he was just as confused as she was. Harriet was starting to feel overwhelmed.

“I’m gonna… not hungry,” Harriet said.

She pushed her plate away, got up from the table and hurried away. She heard Kieran saying something but didn’t listen. He’d looked surprised, but maybe he’d been acting. Kieran and Scott never kept secrets from each other. She supposed she really didn’t mind terribly if Scott knew, but still she would have preferred to tell him herself. And then there was just the fact that Kieran had said he wouldn’t tell anyone, even Scott. In fact, Harriet had made Kieran promise specifically that he wouldn’t tell Scott.

Harriet was so distracted that she was almost all the way back to the Gryffindor common room by the time she remembered that she was actually supposed to be down in the Charms classroom to meet her new “teacher.” She hurried back down the stairs as fast as she could without running, making it to the classroom only a few minutes late. She hurried inside, stepping into the middle of the room, looking around.

“You’re late,” came the voice from behind her.

Harriet froze. She knew that voice, but she hadn’t heard it in weeks. She wasn’t prepared for it; not for the voice itself, or its tone. The tone was harsh and short, as if the speaker wished to be anywhere else at the moment.

Harriet slowly turned around. There, leaning against the wall next to the door, her arms crossed, her long blonde hair done up in a bun, her lips twisted disapprovingly and her eyes as haughty as ever, was Dora.

## * * * *

Harriet wiped her forehead as she sat on the fallen log next to Professor Sinistra. Perhaps because of her suspicions about Kieran, and having an encounter with Dora thrust upon her after weeks of not speaking, Harriet had run much harder than she normally did that morning. Despite the otherwise chilly November morning, Harriet had worked up quite the sweat.

“So,” Professor Sinistra said after taking a drink from her water bottle. “Ready to talk?”

Harriet looked up at her. By the look on her face, Harriet could tell that Professor Sinistra had noticed there was something else going on.

“I think so,” Harriet said. “Especially after yesterday…”

“Well, I’m here to listen,” Professor Sinistra smiled. “But… do you want me to just listen? Or do you want my opinions or advice? Because if you want my opinions or advice, you need to understand that I might be telling you things that you don’t necessarily want to hear?”

Harriet thought. Finally, she nodded to herself as she made her decision. “I… I want advice.”

“Okay then, fire away.”

Harriet took care to leave out what exactly the secret was that she’d told Kieran, only divulging her suspicion that he had told Scott after all. Professor Sinistra didn’t say anything, simply letting Harriet speak until she couldn’t think of what else to say.

“Well, I can certainly see why that would all be upsetting,” Professor Sinistra said. “But I think you may be jumping to a conclusion where your friends Kieran and Scott are concerned.”

Harriet looked up at Professor Sinistra, who gave Harriet a comforting smile.

“It’s really easy, Harriet, when you’re worried about something happening, to start expecting it to happen. You see what you want to see, even if it’s something bad.”

“Why would I want something bad to happen?” Harriet asked.

“Well, not quite what I was trying to say. See, it’s more like… people get more caught up in wanting to be right than anything. Like in your case, you’re terrified that this secret will get out, right? And you know that someday it probably will, because nothing really stays secret forever. And you told someone, and trusted them. Keeping that secret means you already have a bit of an issue with trusting others… so you see, I think you’re probably more jumping to the conclusion that he told Scott.”

Harriet tried to digest what Professor Sinistra had said. It felt a little overwhelming, yet she supposed it made sense.

“I was like that once, too,” Professor Sinistra said. “So, if it helps, I am speaking from experience and self-reflection.”

Harriet looked up at Professor Sinistra. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Professor Sinistra replied, looking out over the lake. “After everything I went through with school and my friends, it was very difficult for me to trust people. Almost cost me the best job of my life.”

“It did?”

Professor Sinistra took another drink of water. “Yep,” she said, smiling a little. “It was hard getting work after I finished my education with my parents. Astronomy wasn’t exactly in demand back in the States at the time. I ended up getting a job in a book shop. Anyway, one day, a woman came in looking for a book on Astronomy, and naturally, we struck up a conversation. Nanette and Rosie were only five at the time and I couldn’t find a sitter for them so they were in the shop with me. Well, she asked after the kids and I admit I got a bit prickly… see, I expected her to judge me just like everyone else.”

Professor Sinistra snorted with amusement. “Granted, she probably guessed the truth from my reaction. Anyway, she told me she was in town for an educational conference and her school was looking for a new Astronomy professor.”

Harriet blinked. “It was Professor McGonagall, wasn’t it?”

“The same,” Professor Sinistra laughed. “So, she gave me her card and told me to meet her the next day for coffee for an ‘informal interview’ as she called it.”

“You went, right?” Harriet asked.

Professor Sinistra smiled. “Of course. But I very nearly didn’t. I didn’t think it was going to work. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I didn’t want to build myself up just to be let down. So I showed up to the interview looking like I’d just thrown myself together into the closest resemblance to professional that I could—because I had—and… it worked. The following year, the girls and I moved here to Britain. Professor Howe offered me a special scholarship for the girls to attend Rathlin so they’d have somewhere close-by to get one of the best educations in the world…”

Professor Sinistra sighed. “Well, anyway. Sorry got a bit carried away.”

“Th-that’s okay,” Harriet said. “So… what you’re saying is…”

“What I’m saying is, Harriet, you have to be careful with trust. It’s not as easy as being guarded. Sometimes… you have to realise that by guarding yourself too much you can do more harm than good. For all I know, if I hadn’t let my guard down, I’d still be there working that shop. I’d have never made all my friends here or met...well.”

Professor Sinistra cut herself off and Harriet noticed her cheeks get rather red.

“Now… about your friend Dora,” Professor Sinistra said.

“Ugh,” Harriet grumbled. “I don’t even know where to start there.”

“Understandable,” Professor Sinistra said. “But, she helped you with your Summoning Charm?”

“Yes,” Harriet admitted. “She did… she was really helpful actually—if really bossy and irritable the whole time… She actually got me to be able to do the charm.”

“Well that’s excellent,” Professor Sinistra said.

“I just… I don’t get why? Like weeks of not talking to me and all the sudden just poof! Here, I’m going to help you now!”

Professor Sinistra sighed. “Well, I know why you’re frustrated. I really do. But she still helped.”

“Only because Hermione and her sister begged her to,” Harriet said bitterly.

“Yes, but she _still_ did it. If she really didn’t want to do it, do you think she would have?”

“No…”

“I say don’t worry about it now, Harriet,” Professor Sinistra said. “You certainly have enough on your plate with the Tournament.”

“Heh, not wrong,” Harriet agreed.

“Feel better getting it out, at least?”

Harriet nodded.

“Good,” Professor Sinistra said smiling. “You’re going to do great, Harriet.”

Finally, Harriet smiled too.

## * * * *

Harriet rubbed her eyes wearily as she sat down and set her jewellery box on the table in the Gryffindor common room. It was two in the morning.

Harriet lifted the lid.

“Sirius…?”

“There you are,” came Sirius’ voice and her godfather’s smiling face came into view. “Was wondering when you were going to fill me in.”

“Sorry,” Harriet admitted. “It’s been…”

“I understand,” Sirius chuckled. “So, dragons, eh?”

“How do you know?” Harriet asked.

Sirius gave her a raised eyebrow.

“Oh, Daniel, right.”

Sirius laughed. “Indeed he did. So he suggested summoning your broomstick, did he?”

“Yeah,” Harriet replied. “Which was kind of awkward because I was having trouble with Summoning Charms… ended up having to have Dora help me.”

“Oof, yes, I can bet that was cheery.”

“Oh yeah, barrel of laughs it was,” Harriet said.

Sirius laughed again. “So like James. Well, as I was thinking about it myself after Daniel told me, I had a bit of advice to give too that might help as well. A real simple spell.”

“What is it?” Harriet asked with interest.

“Conjunctivitis,” Sirius said.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“The Conjunctivitis Curse,” Sirius explained. “Conjunculo. Swells the eyes shut. The eyes are a dragon’s most vulnerable spot. The dragon can’t hit you with its flames or eat you or anything else along those lines if it can’t see you, after all. Especially if you’re off the ground and so it can’t smell you or hear you as easily, either.”

“Brilliant!” Harriet said. “Why didn’t I think of that?!”

Sirius grinned a little, his eyes twinkling. “Because you’re a decent person who under normal circumstances would probably consider blinding your opponent bad form. _That_ you get from your mother.”

“Yeah… that’s true…” Harriet admitted. “Though how am I supposed to hit a dragon’s eyes while flying on a broomstick?”

Sirius smirked. “Oh I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that, from what Remus has told me. Hitting three people from a cross a Quidditch pitch with a Patronus charm while chasing a Golden Snitch, if I remember correctly?”

Harriet blushed. “Oh yeah… yeah I did that…”

“Now then… now that’s out of the way, on to more important things.”

Harriet’s eyebrows rose far up her forehead. What could be more important than facing dragons?

“Did you write that boy you met at the Halloween party yet?” Sirius asked, his smirk growing.

Harriet felt her throat tighten. In the wake of the Goblet of Fire, Harriet had almost completely forgotten.

“I umm…”

Sirius chuckled. “Didn’t think so. Why I thought it’d be a good idea to remind you.”

“Why?”

Sirius’ smile lost a bit of its teasing edge. “Because these tasks are going to wear on you hard, Harriet. You need something to take your mind off it. And if your friends aren’t being the most helpful at the moment either… well consider it incumbent on me as your godfather to do my part.”

“You sure? Last time you called him a ‘rapscallion’ I believe?”

Sirius laughed his bark-like laugh. “Well that was my duty as a godfather too. Have to be protective, do I not? Besides, I already wrote to Daniel about him who wrote to Sherrod about him enquiring after just what sort of young man he is. So I’ve already done my homework on that matter.”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Well, give it a go. After a good night’s sleep though. You look like you could use one.”

“Heh, not wrong,” Harriet admitted. “Though I doubt I will until the first task is over…”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Sirius said. “Just think, you can do a Summoning Charm, so at the very least you can get your broom which will get you past your dragon with ease. You’re good at hexes from what I hear, so learning Conjunculo will be no sweat either. You’re in for a walk in the park. Wipe the smirks off all those faces who’ve been doubting you.”

Harriet felt her cheeks go bright red. Without another word she leant forward and wrapped her arms around the jewellery box.

“Umm, Harriet?” she heard Sirius’ muffled voice from the mirror. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t actually hug you so I’m hugging the box instead.”

Sirius laughed.

Harriet smiled sitting back. “You know… I’ll write him tonight, actually. Maybe give me something more to smile about.”

“That’s my girl,” Sirius said approvingly.

Harriet smiled wider. “Goodnight, Sirius, and thanks.”

“You’ll never have to thank me for being there for you, Harriet,” Sirius said. “Me, or Daniel, or Remus. We’ll always be there for you rain or shine, got it?”

“Got it,” Harriet said.

“Sleep well, kiddo.”                                  

With that, Sirius’ face disappeared from the mirror. Harriet closed the box and carried it back upstairs. She put it safely on her bedside table before opening her trunk as quietly as she could, taking out her quill, ink, and some parchment. She snuck back downstairs and sat down at the table again, thinking.

 

_Dear Finn,_

_It’s Harriet, or Nancy if you still prefer. I’m so, so sorry that I haven’t written sooner. Things have been kinda sorta really crazy. I don’t know how much you hear at Rathlin about what’s going on here at Hogwarts, but I’m sure you’ve heard about the Twi-Wizard Tournament. Well my name came out as one of the champions. Which is really weird because I didn’t put my name in and no one really knows why or how it happened. Most people seem to think I did it or I talked someone else into doing it for me but I didn’t._

Harriet paused.

 

_There’s something else I have to tell you too. That I probably should have told you that night. But I didn’t really want to say anything because I was worried because of what you said that you wouldn’t like me as much. But I’m sort of I guess well known in the magical world. Though I really wish I wasn’t. If I wasn’t I probably wouldn’t have been put into this tournament that I’ve had to obsess over for weeks and make me forget to write you and feel like the biggest idiot in the world._

_Please don’t hate me? I had a lot of fun that night. And I hope you write back soon. And I really mean that. The first task is this Saturday and I have to get past a dragon in the first task. I have a plan, but I’m still crazy nervous._

_Please write back._

_Harriet (Nancy)_

## * * * *

Harriet sat bolt upright in bed. She pulled back her bed-curtains and looked at her clock on the bedside table. It was shortly after five in the morning. Harriet lay back on the bed again, staring at the ceiling of her four poster bed. The day had come.

She took a deep breath as she recounted the week in her head. She had spent the entire week, outside of classes, practicing the Conjunctivitis Curse and her Summoning Charm. Kieran, Scott and Marcus had stepped up helping her with both. Hermione meanwhile was still wrapped up in her secret meetings with Erica and Rachel.

Harriet kept staring at the ceiling, listening to the ticking of her clock and the sound of the rest of her dorm-mates sleeping. Her mind continued to race. Finn hadn’t written back yet. Did that mean he was mad at her? Or had he not gotten the letter? Hedwig had come back the very next day without it, so someone must have received it.

Harriet rolled on her side, hugging her pillow. She heard Basheera get up to do her morning prayers. Harriet rolled over onto her other side, trying to sleep some more. The task wasn’t until the afternoon. She supposed she could use the rest.

The next thing Harriet knew, it was half past ten. She had fallen asleep again after all, which surprised her greatly. She sat up and slid out of bed, looking around. The bedroom was deserted. Harriet opened her trunk to get dressed.

“Harriet?”

Harriet jumped and spun around. It was Ronnie sticking her head out of her bed-curtains.

“Ronnie?” Harriet asked.

Ronnie slid out of her bed. Harriet noted that she was already dressed. Harriet supposed Ronnie must have been waiting for her. Ronnie stood awkwardly, looking at Harriet, her mouth opening and closing in rapid succession as she fumbled for words.

Harriet raised her eyebrows when Ronnie rushed forward and hugged Harriet tight around the shoulders. Harriet grunted and staggered back a couple paces.

“Good luck,” Ronnie managed to say as she kept holding Harriet tightly.

“Th-thanks,” Harriet stammered as the taller girl continued the embrace.

Without another word, Ronnie let go, sniffed, and turned and ran from the room. Harriet stood there staring after her, feeling completely bewildered. She dressed and headed downstairs. She was met at once by raucous cheering from the rest of Gryffindor house as she entered the common room.

Harriet made her way as quickly as she could to the portrait hole. She didn’t think her nerves could handle them right now. All their smiling faces, their confidence in her abilities. It wasn’t just that. It was the lingering annoyance she had that even though they were all supporting her, they all still thought she had put her name in the Goblet.

Harriet headed down towards the Great Hall. She knew breakfast was already over, but she felt like she was moving on auto-pilot, as though she wasn’t really in control of her legs.

“Hungry?” said a voice from nearby.

Harriet turned to see Kieran coming towards her. He was carrying a plate of toast and bacon in his free hand. Harriet felt her stomach rumble at the sight of the food. She had decided to take Professor Sinistra’s advice, and so had kept her emotions at bay when Kieran and Scott were around. Neither had brought up the subject of secrets or anything again, either.

Kieran smiled awkwardly as he reached her. “Hermione said to let you sleep but I thought you might like some breakfast anyway.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said taking the plate and cramming a piece of bacon into her mouth as sudden, indecent hunger washed over her.

“Oh, you had a letter too,” Kieran said, holding out the envelope. Harriet took it, looking down at it curiously. There was no return address on it.

“So,” Kieran said as they walked along. “Only a few hours left… Accio and Conjunculo… a charm and a curse and you’re past a dragon… amazing…”

Harriet flushed a little. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” she said.

“Eh, you say that now,” Kieran said.

Harriet smiled a little. “Glad you have faith in me.”

“I think a lot of people do,” Kieran said. “Even if they don’t want to admit it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “I mean… like when I was upset… it wasn’t that I thought you couldn’t. It was just… always being so worried about you all the time. You’re always being put down by your family outside of school, you’re always getting into danger here at school… it just gets a little much and I just didn’t know how to handle it anymore. And everyone else, well, they all grew up hearing about you and how you stopped You-Know-Who when you were only a baby. I think more than anything, they’re all jealous.”

Harriet snorted. “Well, they can have it then… I’m sick of it too…”

Kieran gave her a half smile.

They went out into the grounds and sat by the chilly lake to eat. Marcus and Scott joined them shortly afterwards, all trying to help raise her spirits. They fell quiet for a while when Harriet felt something crinkle in her pocket. She looked down and remembered the letter Kieran had given her earlier. She pulled it out and looked at it some more. Should she open it yet?

Finally, Marcus looked around and his face paled slightly. Harriet followed his gaze and saw Professor McGonagall approaching them. She was even paler than Marcus was, and her jaw was set.

“Potter, the champions have to come to the arena now,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice sounding tighter than normal.

“Okay, professor,” Harriet said, getting to her feet.

“Good luck, Harriet,” Kieran said.

“Knock ‘em dead!” Marcus said.

“You’ll be fine,” Scott said.

“Thanks,” Harriet said, her voice sounding hollow even to herself as she set off after Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall led Harriet off around the castle. When they got out of sight of the entrance, Professor McGonagall stopped and turned, putting a comforting hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“Now, don’t panic,” Professor McGonagall said. “Just keep a cool head… there are wizards on hand to control the situation should things get out of hand… the main thing is just do your best. Do your best and no one will think any the less of you. Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” Harriet said, her voice still sounding empty. “I’m fine.”

Professor McGonagall gave her a short nod before she resumed leading her into the rear grounds. Harriet felt her eyes automatically drifting towards the place where she knew the enclosures were and felt her eyes widen at what she saw. Rather than being hidden away, the place was now marked with a large, garish yellow tent that blocked the dragons from view.

Professor McGonagall led her towards it but stopped at the entrance to the tent.

“You’re to go inside with the other champions, and get ready. Then wait your turn. Mr Bagman is waiting inside to… to tell you the procedure. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harriet said.

Professor McGonagall hurried off and Harriet stepped into the tent.

The first person Harriet saw was Fleur Delacour. She was sitting on a small wooden stool in the corner, looking much less composed than usual. Viktor Krum was standing in another corner, his shoulders so hunched that he looked as though he had no neck. Aello was leaning against a wall. Harriet thought she seemed remarkably calm, until she noticed that Aello’s eyes were fixated on the clock hanging nearby, unblinking, and her fingers fidgeting rapidly. Cedric was pacing back and forth, though he did pause and give Harriet a friendly little smile as she entered.

Harriet looked around. Kazunari wasn’t there yet it seemed.

“Harriet! Good-oh!” Bagman said happily, bounding towards her from a door on the opposite side of the tent, which Harriet was sure led to the dragons.

“Come in, come in!” Bagman said guiding Harriet into the middle of the room. He pointed to some stalls in another corner. “Get changed there, there’s a jump-suit all ready for you.”

“Thanks, Mr Bagman,” Harriet said and hurried over.

Inside, Harriet saw a red and gold jumpsuit with “Potter” emblazoned in gold on the back. As she changed, she felt the letter once more. She took it out. She supposed that waiting here in the tent would be as good a time as any to read it. Harriet heard footsteps and heavy panting. She was sure it meant that Kazunari had finally arrived.

“Hurry along, hurry along now,” Bagman said, much more impatiently than he had been with Harriet.

Harriet heard the sound of the door to the stall next to her opening and closing and heard someone hurriedly dressing as well. Harriet stepped back out and Bagman beamed. Harriet only now noticed how ludicrous Bagman looked compared to the rest. He was wearing his old Wasp robes once more, and his cheery disposition was so at odds with the rest of the faces that he looked almost cartoonish.

“Come around, come around,” Bagman said as Kazunari came out of the changing room wearing his own jump-suit, which was purple.

“Now, it’s time to fill you all in!” Bagman continued excitedly. “When the audience is assembled, I will take this bag ‘round to each of you.”

Bagman held up a small, purple silk sack and shook it at them. Harriet felt a sense of foreboding as the bag writhed and hissed.

“From this bag, each of you will select a model of the creature you’re about to face! There are different—er—varieties, you see? Lastly, your task is to collect the _golden egg_!”

Harriet glanced at the other champions. She noticed that none of them reacted to Bagman’s words. Harriet took this to mean two things. First, that everyone was too nervous to really react. Two, somehow they must have all found out about the dragons too. Neither Kazunari nor Krum seemed at all curious about the ‘different varieties.’

Bagman hurried back out of the tent, leaving the champions alone once more, standing in an awkward circle.

“So,” Cedric said looking around. “We all know what’s coming?”

“Dragons,” Krum said gruffly.

“Yes,” Kazunari said. He looked as though a light breeze would blow him over.

“How’d you find out?” Aello asked Kazunari.

“Cedric,” Kazunari said.

Aello nodded. “I told Viktor.”

“You did?” Fleur asked in surprise.

“Harriet told me,” Cedric said.

“Who told you?” Kazunari asked Harriet, curiously.

“I, uh… Aello and I both heard the dragons the night they arrived and went to investigate,” Harriet said quickly. She still didn’t want anyone to know about Hagrid’s involvement.

Krum sniffed irritably. “Zey should haff told us,” he said, his accent sounding thicker than usual in his aggravated state. “Especially since it is dragons.”

“Agreed,” Cedric said. “Well, we’re all on an even footing, and now none of us are likely to get roasted alive or eaten or stomped on or—”

“Right then! Let’s get cracking!” came the voice of Bagman as he re-entered the tent.

Harriet hadn’t even noticed that there was now the sound of a large crowd outside the tent. Bagman walked over to them all and was holding out the silk sack.

“Ladies first!” Bagman said.

Aello rolled her eyes but walked over with Harriet and Fleur. Fleur reached into the bag first and pulled out her hand. She held it up and revealed a tiny model dragon. It was the red Chinese Fireball, with a number three hanging on a small chain around its neck. It was moving, twisting around looking at them all and flapping its wings.

Aello reached in next. She drew out the blue-grey Swedish Shortsnout, with a number one around its neck. Harriet now put her hand in. The little dragons were wriggling around but finally Harriet got hold of one and pulled it out. It was the bull-headed Romanian Longhorn, this one carrying a number five.

“Right then,” Bagman said. “And the gentlemen!”

Krum reached into the bag. He drew out the Common Welsh Green which was marked with a number two. Kazunari reached in next and drew out the Hungarian Horntail which was labelled number six. Kazunari’s eye twitched a bit as he took in the little dragon. Finally, Cedric reached in and took out the final dragon, the Hebridean Black which was marked number four.

“Well, there we all are then!” Bagman declared. “You’ve each selected the dragons you will face, and the order you will face them. Now, I’ll have to leave shortly so I can commentate. Miss Aello, you’re first, so when you hear the whistle just step outside into the enclosure. Now then, Harriet, might I have a quick word with you in private?”

“Uh, sure?” Harriet said uncertainly.

Bagman grinned and led Harriet outside the way they had come. They stepped into a nearby copse of trees and Bagman turned a cheerful, fatherly smile down on Harriet.

“Feeling alright, Harriet? Anything I can get you?”

“What? Oh, no, I’m fine,” Harriet said.

“Got a plan?” Bagman asked, lowering his voice and glancing around nervously. “Because I don’t mind sharing a few pointers. I mean, you are the underdog here, Harriet. You didn’t ask to be in this tournament, so anything I can do to help—”

“No,” Harriet said, so quickly she was sure she’d sounded rude. “I—I’ve decided what I’m going to do. I’ve been working on it for weeks now. Thanks.”

“Really? Well good on you then, but every little bit helps, and nobody would be any the wiser,” Bagman went on, winking.

“No, really,” Harriet insisted. “I’m fine.”

Somewhere in the distance, a whistle blew.

“Good lord!” Bagman cried. “I’ve got to run!”

Bagman hurried off, back into the tent. Harriet followed, and saw Bagman disappear out the other side of the tent. Aello was following. She was bouncing on the soles of her feet a bit, drawing her wand, working herself up.

Mere seconds later, the crowd roared. Harriet took that to mean that Aello had entered the enclosure and was now facing her dragon.

None of the champions spoke. They all sat, staring vacantly at different parts of the tent, listening to the horrible sounds coming from outside. The crowd was almost as bad to listen to as the dragon’s roars. They yelled, screamed, and gasped at once over and over again as Aello did whatever she was doing to get past the dragon.

Bagman certainly wasn’t helping. They could hear his commentary easily in the tent, and it was putting horrible images in Harriet’s mind.

“Oh! Very clever! Ohhh almost got her there! Blimey that’s some hot flames! Oh no!”

Harriet sighed and looked down in her hands. The dragon was still in one, the letter in the other. Harriet set the little dragon down on the table and finally opened the letter. She felt her chest unclench a bit as she read.

 

_Nanciet (or Harcy, or just Harriet—yeah let’s go with Harriet),_

_Well, not going to lie I had kind of figured you weren’t going to write by this point. So getting your letter was a real surprise. A really welcome one though for sure. Also, after you didn’t write, Krystelle explained to me who you were, and how you were in the tournament. So I sort of figured you had bigger things on your mind and bigger fish to fry than me. Which made finally getting your letter all the bigger surprise._

_I won’t be able to make the tournament this weekend. So I figured I would send my reply so it got there hopefully before you start your task. Who knows, maybe I’ll warrant a smile or two? I had a lot of fun that night and really hope you write soon. If not I’ll just have to put on my cloak and mask again and steal you. Just kidding (maybe). Anyway, wishing you all the luck in the world today. You should do great, you’re the coolest girl I know._

_All the best,_

_Finn_

_(P.S. Sorry that I said that the way I did. You're not at all like the girls I was talking about. If you were, the fact you’re famous would have been the first thing you told me not something you tried to keep secret. That’s a big difference!)_

 

Harriet felt her cheeks flush as she put the letter back in the envelope and stuck it in her jumpsuit pocket once more. So Finn hadn’t been mad with her after all. And he didn’t hate her for being famous either. She gave a small exhale of relief and looked at the clock. Ten minutes had passed. A minute later, the dragon emitted a terrible roar of rage which was quickly drown out by the roar of the crowd. Aello had gotten her egg.

 

“Excellent! Now for the marks from the judges!” Bagman’s voice declared.

Bagman did not shout out the marks. Harriet supposed they were being held up by the judges because the crowd cheered again all the same.

“One down, five to go!” Bagman called. “Mister Krum, if you please!”

Krum got to his feet and strode to the entrance to the enclosure. Harriet noted that Aello did not return. She supposed Aello was staying to watch the rest compete. The remaining four champions continued to sit in silence, as though too afraid to move. Harriet felt her stomach twisting in knots as Bagman’s commentary resumed.

“Very daring!” Bagman cried. “Oh thought he almost had it there! That’s some nerve he’s showing! YES! He’s got the egg!”

Harriet looked at the clock again. Krum had taken almost the same time as Aello. Maybe a hair slower.

“Now, let’s give a big hand for Miss Delacour!”

Fleur got to her feet. Harriet noted that she was trembling head to foot, yet she still held her head high as she strode from the tent. Somehow, seeing her holding herself so poised despite her obvious nerves gave Harriet a pang of empathy for Fleur she had not felt so far.

“Oh, I’m not sure that was wise!” Bagman carried on. “Blimey! Very nearly! Good lord!”

After fourteen minutes, the crowd burst into cheers once more. Harriet supposed Fleur had succeeded as well. Cedric rose on his own before Bagman even called his name and stepped up to the door.

“Good luck,” Harriet managed to say, though her voice came out more like a croak than anything else.

Cedric seemed to understand. He smiled back at her over his shoulder and gave her a little nod as Bagman finally called his name. Now it was just Harriet and Kazunari in the tent.

“Arrigato,” Kazunari managed to say.

“What?” Harriet said, surprised that Kazunari was managing to speak.

“For telling Cedric, who told me,” Kazunari explained.

“Oh, um, you’re welcome,” Harriet said. She didn’t think she really deserved any praise. If she had told Kazunari himself that would be one thing.

Kazunari said nothing else. They resumed silently listening to the commentary and the roars of the crowd and dragon.

It took Cedric fifteen minutes to get past his dragon. Harriet grimaced and got to her own feet. Any second now, Bagman was going to call her name. Kazunari gave her a weak smile and nod. Harriet took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Bagman called her name. Harriet strode out through the flap in the tent, her eyes still closed. She stumbled and opened them. The path was lined with trees, and ahead of her a gap in the fence around the enclosure. Somehow, Harriet couldn’t help but feel it looked rather sinister, like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow her whole as she moved towards it.

Harriet raised her hand to block the afternoon sun as she stepped out of the trees and into the enclosure. The sight which greeted her was positively surreal. Hundreds and hundreds of faces were looking down at her from the stands which surrounded the enclosure now.

Harriet scanned the crowd, at first feeling very small when suddenly a bright flash of red and a booming roar caught her attention. Harriet turned around and her eyes went wide. A section of the stands was full of students jumping up and down and calling her name. Harriet shook her head and took them in properly.

It was a group of the refugees standing underneath a large banner declaring:

 

_GO HARRIET! OUR CHAMPION!_

 

They were all wearing red jumpers with a golden Gryffindor lion on the fronts. They were wearing what looked to be school skirts dyed gold and school socks dyed red. They were waving red and gold pom-poms. At once they all pressed a finger to the golden lions on their chests and each emitted a deep, rumbling, authentic sounding roar.

Harriet took in the faces. She recognised Erica and Rachel at once at the very front. Other familiar faces were the McGee twins from Hufflepuff, and the Taylor sisters Katy and Kenley. She quickly realised it was representatives from all four houses. Next to them sat Kieran, Scott, Marcus, and Hermione. But not just them. Fred and George sat there as well. George had his eyes fixed on Erica with a slightly dreamy look on his face. But what made her heart leap the most was that sitting either side of Hermione was not only Ronnie, but Dora as well. Dora’s face was stricken looking from Harriet then to the middle of the clearing.

Harriet turned and her eyes moved to the centre of the enclosure. There it was, the Romanian Longhorn. It was curled up, its massive horned head resting on its long tail. Harriet was sure that it was curled around its eggs. This was going to be trickier than she thought.

Harriet raised her wand. She thought hard trying to remember the trick that Dora had told her. _Desire, Harriet, that’s the real key._ Dora had told her. _You have to really want it, especially if you’re summoning it from all the way up in the castle. Tell yourself it’s the one thing you can’t live without and it’ll come._

Harriet had thought this extreme, but as the Longhorn roused itself and raised its terrifying horned head to look at her and snarl, Harriet definitely did not want to be on the ground.

“ _Accio Firebolt!_ ” Harriet shouted.

She waited, thinking about how badly she needed her _Firebolt_ , and trying not to think about how much trouble she would be in if it did not work. The world seemed to go out of focus. It took her a moment to realise she was squinting, having screwed her face up tightly as she concentrated on the _Firebolt_.

Then, she heard it. There was a soft, whistling noise growing louder and louder. The _Firebolt_ streaked into the enclosure, skimming low over the trees before stopping right in front of Harriet, trembling. Though as Harriet looked at it, she couldn’t help but feel the _Firebolt_ , unlike her, was trembling with anticipation, ready to fly.

Harriet took hold of the broom and swung a leg over. The crowd was still roaring and Bagman was shouting something but Harriet couldn’t tell what he was saying. She kicked off.

Elation swept over Harriet as she shot skywards. Soon, the dragon below her was no bigger than a dog. The faces of the crowd were mere pinpricks gazing up at her. As Harriet looked down at them all, without meaning to, or really knowing why at first, Harriet smiled.

She was back where she belonged; in the air on her _Firebolt_. This wasn’t going to be harder than any Quidditch match she had ever played. All that dragon was really was another really slow competing Seeker.

The Longhorn had shifted, trying to keep Harriet in sight. It had moved just enough that Harriet could see its clutch of eggs. A tiny glint told her which one was the golden one. She had to get the Longhorn to move away from the eggs somehow. It seemed excessively possessive of them. Harriet remembered how Charlie had said they were rare. She supposed that was making the Longhorn extra protective.

However, as she circled, Harriet saw an advantage. As the Longhorn had such a short neck, it couldn’t follow her without moving its body to keep her in view. She grinned wider and dived. There was another roar from the stands matched by one from the Longhorn as it reared up on its hind legs and pointed its massive horns at Harriet. Harriet kept her eyes on its mouth, waiting for the right moment. Finally, she zoomed in close enough that the dragon opened wide. Harriet dodged just in time as the jet of flames shot past her and she rocketed past the Longhorn.

The Longhorn turned and just as Harriet had hoped, it turned on its back legs, putting the clutch of eggs behind it, now only covered by its tail. She drew her wand. She wanted to get it far enough away from the eggs before hitting it with the Conjunctivitis Curse, otherwise it might step on the golden egg and Harriet was sure that wouldn’t help her chances.

Harriet served around now coming at the dragon from its left side. It turned and Harriet suddenly had to pull up. She had underestimated how aggressive the dragon was. Instead of remaining in position, the Longhorn had spun, spread its wings and taken a leap in her direction. Harriet only barely missed being impaled on one of its heavy brow horns.

She circled again, trying to catch her breath and regain her senses. That had been too close. The Longhorn was now moving back towards the eggs, almost triumphant as it seemed to trot despite its massive bulk.

_Now!_ Harriet thought. She aimed and cried out. “ _Conjunculo_!”

The spell shot towards the dragon and connected with it dead in the eyes. The Longhorn gave a cry of rage and agony, rearing up on its hind legs, batting at its eyes with its front paws, shaking its massive head side to side. It stumbled backwards, away from its eggs, roaring and writhing.

Harriet wasted no time. She dived, skimming low over the ground, and held out a hand.

The crowd exploded with noise. Harriet shot skyward once more, the heavy golden egg clutched tightly in her arm. She looked down at the crowd. Everyone was on their feet, their hands in the air clapping. The roar of the lions was just audible over the crowd as Harriet flew back down towards the entrance. The handlers were leading the Longhorn away, getting ready to bring out Kazunari’s Hungarian Horntail.

Professors McGonagall, Moody, and Hagrid were all standing by the entrance, but Harriet didn’t see them. The only person she wanted to see was also standing amongst them. Harriet beamed as she saw the smiling, but very pale, face of Daniel.

Harriet rocketed down towards him. She skidded to a halt in the dirt and in one motion hopped off the broomstick and into Daniel’s waiting arms. He hoisted her high in the air just as he had done after she had won the Quidditch House Cup the previous spring. She felt his shoulders shaking a bit and Harriet realised he was crying. Whether from nerves or happiness she couldn’t tell or care as she kept holding him tight around the neck.

“My girl,” Daniel was saying over and over again. “That’s my girl. That was amazing. My girl.”

“Thanks daddy,” Harriet said.                        

It took her a moment to realise what she’d just said. She felt Daniel’s arms slacken ever so slightly as what she’d said seemed to register to him as well. However, Daniel simply responded by hugging her tighter again.

“Potter, Mister Dusk,” Professor McGonagall said in a voice that sounded both touched and deeply relieved. “They’re about to read Harriet’s scores.”

Harriet lifted her head from Daniel’s shoulder and looked to the judges’ table as Daniel set her down. The judges were sitting at a table draped in gold. First, Madame Maxime lifted her wand skyward. A long silver ribbon shot from it and formed itself into a large eight in the air.

The crowd cheered and the lions roared again. Next, Mr Crouch put up a nine. Professor Dumbledore also gave her a nine. Daniel was shaking her shoulders with pride with each number. Bagman was next, and gave her a ten, which cause the crowd to cheer even harder.

Professor Ilves gave her another nine, as did General Wengshuk. Professor Cato gave her another eight. The crowd was all on their feet now. Harriet felt elated as her friends finally caught up with her. The first to reach her was Dora. Dora threw her arms tight around Harriet’s neck.

“That was amazing! You’re so stupid! What were you thinking taking a Longhorn head on! Amazing dodge though!”

Harriet didn’t know how to respond to this. The rest of her friends were staring, equally dumbstruck. Dora finally let go.

“Okay, you can hate me later and tell me what a horrible person I am, but let’s get in the stands,” Dora said.

Harriet just kept staring in disbelief. Dora for the first time Harriet had ever seen her actually looked ashamed.

“Yes, let’s move along,” Professor McGonagall said. “Mr Watanuki I’m sure has been waiting long enough.”

Professor McGonagall chivvied them along and up into the stands. Harriet sat next to the group of cheerleaders. Only now did she realize how many of them there were. She counted twenty of them, five from each house. Harriet noted that all but two of them were refugees: Scott’s friends Atsuko Makeda and Tomomi Itoh from Ravenclaw.

“So this is what you were working on all week?” Harriet asked Hermione.

Hermione flushed. “Well, I helped out. Much of the work had already been done by Fred and George.”

“Yeah, we did the lions,” Fred said proudly.

“Impressive,” Harriet admitted.

Fred looked exceptionally pleased with himself.

Rachel gave Hermione a teasing look. “Yeah, we tried to get Hermione to make one for herself but for some reason she just wasn’t up for it.”

“I… there were alternate ways to show my support,” Hermione said.

“Shame,” Marcus said.

Hermione gave him a sharp look, but it softened quickly.

Just then, they heard Bagman call Kazunari’s name. Everyone turned their attention to the enclosure. Where once had been her Romanian Longhorn, there now stood the Hungarian Horntail. It was giving its shrieking cry as Kazunari stepped through the gate. Harriet looked at Kazunari, expecting to see the same level of nervousness she’d seen when she left the tent.

It wasn’t there. Instead, there was a grim determination as he slowly stalked forward, his eyes on the dragon. The Horntail snarled and lashed its tail back and forth, digging great gouges in the earth with its large spines.

Harriet saw Kazunari’s shoulders rise and fall as he walked closer. He was fifty feet away from it now. The Horntail screamed and shot a jet of flames at him. Kazunari took one step back but the flames fell short of him and he seemed to get even more confident.

“My word!” Bagman said. “Now that is some nerve!”

Kazunari raised his wand. He pointed it to the left of the Horntail and gave it a swift upward flick. A jet of water shot out. Kazunari flicked the wand back down and the spout of water burst into a cloud of mist. The Horntail roared and slashed at the mist with its tail though it did nothing.

Kazunari spun and pointed his wand to the Horntail’s right and repeated the process. The Horntail cried out in rage and blew a jet of fire into this mist cloud. It did dissipate a great deal of the mist, but Kazunari immediately cast another.

The Horntail was getting very agitated now. It reared back on its hind-legs, looking around trying to see Kazunari as he’d become obscured by the mists. The mist kept billowing, thicker and thicker. The Horntail flapped its wings, blowing away more of the mist but Kazunari was relentless, casting more water and turning it to mist.

“Cripes,” George muttered under his breath. “No one else thought of that…”

The crowd around them was cheering loudly. Even Harriet was on her feet. Having gotten past her dragon, Harriet was still feeling on top of the world and was jumping up and down with the rest, cheering Kazunari on.

Finally, the dragon took wing. It was flying above the mist, looking around trying to spot Kazunari. It could only go so high, as its leg was indeed tethered down as Hermione had predicted. However, it was too late. Running out the other side of the mist, the golden egg in his arms, was Kazunari.

The crowd burst into cheers. It was over.

“There we have it!” Bagman called. “The last contestant is the second fastest to the egg! Now let’s go to the scores.”

Harriet kept cheering as the judges posted their scores. Kazunari did very well, but Harriet didn’t care enough to do the math in her head. Kazunari could have gotten a perfect score and she’d have been happy. Daniel was here, Finn had written back to her, Dora was talking to her again, and when push had come to shove, and the school had seen what she was up against, they had been on her side and cheering her after all. Harriet was the happiest she could ever remember being.


	21. The Unexpected Task

“Young love may not always last, but that does not make it any less valuable. To find companionship and affection in a friend, for however long a time, is not often a decision one comes to regret.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet was in such a hurry to open the lid to her jewellery box that it took her three tries. It was four in the morning now. The party had lasted until three before Professor McGonagall finally arrived to send them all to bed.

“Sirius?!” she asked, unable to keep her voice down as the lid fully opened.

“Ahh, there you are,” came the sleepy voice of her godfather and his shaggy head came into view in the mirror. “So, dragon dealt with I see?”

“Yes!” Harriet replied excitedly. “Guess what?!”

“What? What?!” Sirius asked, his grin growing as though he guessed.

“I’m in first place! By one point!”

“That’s my girl!” Sirius cheered. “How’d you do it? Did you use the Conjunctivitis Hex like I said? How about your broomstick? Summoning Charm worked alright, did it?”

“Yes!” Harriet gasped. “Both worked perfectly. I didn’t even get a scratch! Well, I very nearly did, almost got skewered on the Longhorn’s horns, oh that’s the dragon I faced, the Romanian Longhorn, see?”

Harriet reached across the table, scooping up her little model of the Longhorn which had been sleeping. It flapped its wings irritably before curling up once again in her hands as she held it up for Sirius to see.

Harriet then went into the blow by blow of her performance. Sirius made for a very good audience. He listened intently, grinning the entire time.

“Krum apparently did almost the same as me. He hit his with the Conjunctivitis Hex too but it made the dragon panic and it trampled some of its own eggs. Apparently the handlers were really not happy about that.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t alone though. Aello apparently transfigured some of the rocks into like a line of soldiers Ronnie said. Hermione said it’s called a phalanx. Anyway, they kept marching at her dragon and it couldn’t scare them away but one of the soldier rock things apparently stepped on an egg so she lost points for that too. Cedric tried to distract his by turning a rock into a Labrador but the dragon was too smart and turned back on Cedric when it saw him near its nest. Emma was _so_ upset about that, she carried on and on about it tonight.”

Sirius chuckled shaking his head.

Fleur did pretty well I guess. She was just the victim of bad luck, cuz she put her dragon to sleep, but when she got near it snored and caught her jumpsuit on fire. She managed to put it out though and still got her egg.”

Sirius seemed most impressed with how Kazunari had dealt with his dragon.

“You’re going to want to keep an eye on that one,” Sirius warned. “Sounds like he’s good at tricking people into underestimating him. You say he put on that ruse from the moment he arrived? Days before he was even selected?”

“Yeah,” Harriet confirmed.

“Yes, he’s definitely not one to underestimate. If he was putting on the bumbling slap-stick ruse before anyone had even been picked, you can assume he’s not just clever, but he’s confident. He knows full-well how good he is, so he knew there was a damn good chance that his name was going to be the one to come out of the Goblet.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda what Professor Moody said,” Harriet agreed. “I have to keep an eye on him.

Sirius chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t go as far as Mad-Eye probably did,” he cautioned. “Look at your friend, Dora. Being clever and ambitious doesn’t make one necessarily dangerous. But he will be a threat.”

“Good point,” Harriet agreed. “I only beat him by one point for first place. He would have beaten me if Bagman hadn’t marked him low.”

“Bagman?” Sirius asked. “Ludo Bagman?”

“Yeah, he’s sort of overseeing the tournament. He offered to give me advice just before the task started.”

“Hmmmm,” Sirius muttered to himself, his brow furrowed deep in thought. “I don’t know that I like that…”

“What do you mean?”

“Bagman… you say he marked Kazunari low? Artificially low, would you say?”

“Yeah, even I didn’t really think it was fair.”

“And what did he give you?”

“A perfect ten.”

“Hmmmm,” Sirius muttered more. “That is suspicious…”

“Well, I mean everyone else gave me a nine or a—”

“No, no no,” Sirius said quickly. “Not that. But we know someone else put your name in the Goblet, correct?”

“Yeah?”

“And Bagman offered to give you help, whilst simultaneously he seemed to mark the only other champion to come close to your score low?”

“Are you saying Bagman put my name in the Goblet?”

“No, but it is damned suspicious. Damned suspicious indeed. I don’t want you worrying about that just yet,” Sirius said quickly. “I’ll write to Daniel and Remus about it myself to pick their brains. All you have to focus on is the next task ahead of you.”

“Well that won’t be until February,” Harriet said. “So I have time there.”

“What’s the clue, by the way?”

Harriet grunted as she leaned down and hoisted up the golden egg onto the table, setting it down with a hefty ‘thunk.”

Sirius whistled. “Any ideas as to what it means?”

“No idea,” Harriet admitted. “I opened it and it just gave off a horrible screeching noise.”

“Hmmm, so not a good idea to open it right now then, either,” Sirius mused.

“Yeah, we’d wake half the castle for sure.”

“Well, you have some good friends in your corner,” Sirius said. “Speaking of which, I don’t think I’ve had the chance to ask, but how’s Erica doing?”

“Pretty well,” Harriet said, smiling, “She and George are dating. He spent most of the afternoon gawping at her in the cheerleader costume she was wearing.”

“You don’t say?” Sirius chuckled.

“Yeah, they ended up being a pretty big hit. Even Rita Skeeter stopped to interview some of them.”

“Did she now?” Sirius asked, sounding like he had after Harriet told him about Bagman.

“Yeah, Rachel said she just asked how long we’d all been friends.”

“Yes, but you know as well as anyone that five words to Rita Skeeter quickly becomes five-hundred,” Sirius cautioned.

He gave Harriet a very hard look now.

“I know that Howe has managed to coax Skeeter into reporting positively on my case, but don’t trust her for a second, Harriet. I’m sure the only reason she’s taken the stance she has on my case is because it’s sensational, which means there’s a horde of galleons to be made on it.

“Writing about how horrible I am won’t get her anywhere; that’s all anyone’s thought I am for thirteen years. However, telling everyone that I’m innocent and the Ministry is at fault, that is going to make her some money for sure. That and… terrible though it was, her nearly being blown up by Kinney has made her even more eager to paint the Ministry in a bad light than usual. It’s useful for now, but don’t count on it always being there, and don’t count on her extending that courtesy to anything outside of my case. The article she wrote about you just after your name came out of the Goblet is child’s play compared to what she really could do.”

Harriet nodded slowly, digesting what Sirius was telling her.

“So, it would be a good idea if you warn your friends to treat her with just as much caution.”

“Yeah…” Harriet agreed, suddenly remembering. “Oh no…”

“What?”

“In the article after Kinney blew up the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Harriet said. “Skeeter attacked the Americans because they were the reason Kinney came here. You think she might be trying to do the same thing?”

“More than likely,” Sirius said, darkly. “She didn’t try and talk to you at all, did she?”

“She tried,” Harriet admitted, “but Daniel got in the way.”

“Ah, of course he did,” Sirius said chuckling once more. His lips tightened for a moment but then turned back into a smile. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m damn proud of you, Harriet. Now, sleep well, you’ve earned it.”

“Thanks, Sirius,” Harriet beamed.

Sirius’ face vanished from the mirror and Harriet closed the lid. She put her little model Longhorn on her shoulder and headed off to bed.

_Heh, Hagrid’s right about you lot, isn’t he?_ Harriet thought to herself as the little dragon gave a snore of tiny flames. _You’re not half bad, dragons._

## * * * *

Two days later, Harriet smiled as she sat down to the reply letter from Finn.

 

_First off, sorry for the delay in getting back. It looks like your owl hit a rough spot of weather over the sea and got here a bit worse for wear. So we’re letting her recuperate before flying on back. Hogwarts’s gotta start using seabirds like we do here at Rathlin, way better for international correspondence._

_Now to the task. Sounds like it was bloody brilliant! And you’re first place! No one’s gonna underestimate you now, dove. Knew there was something special about you._

Harriet blushed.

 

_Though now I know you can outfox a dragon, my chances of pulling off anything dastardly villainous around you seems diminished. You don’t even have to snoop anymore, just fly in on your broomstick, bash the door down and I’d be in serious trouble. I’ll have to be my sneakiest yet._

_You say that the egg just screams whenever you open it? That’s a puzzler, but then again, the feck do I know about magic, eh? Well, I could ask my brother, Colm. But I suppose you’ve already asked your man Scott and your friend Hermione, eh? Well if you still want me to ask, just let me know._

_Blimey, I feel bad that this letter’s so short, compared to the one you sent. But I suppose you told me everything in the letter so I keep thinking of things to ask and every time I do I reread the letter and find myself going ‘oh no, you answered that already.’ I just really wish I could have been there._

_Anyway, let me know if you want Colm’s help with the egg or not, and hey keep me posted on life._

 

Harriet’s blush did not diminish as she put the letter back in her bag. She’d sat down in one of the little alcoves with a suit of armour in it. She didn’t want anyone else teasing her about the letter. She headed off to catch up with her friends, thinking about everything that had happened in the time since the first task.

If Harriet hadn’t known any better over the past few days, she would have thought things at Hogwarts had gone totally back to normal. No one jeered at her in the hallways anymore; except for the Slytherins. However, as the majority of them always threw insults at Harriet and her friends regardless, so that was business as usual as well.

Yet, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that things were definitely not entirely back to normal. The first change that Harriet noticed was that Kazunari had taken to sitting at the Hufflepuff table. At first Harriet thought that he was angry with her over her beating him in the tournament. However, Harriet had to throw that hypothesis out the window as Kazunari kept greeting her cheerfully in the corridors, and she noticed that he most often sat with the American Hufflepuff students who were all solidly supporting Harriet as far as she could tell.

The first change after the task was perhaps the most obvious, but the least consequential as far as Harriet could tell. For the first week after the tournament, it was impossible to go anywhere in the school without there being a raucous tweet and someone bursting into a giant canary. Fred and George were moving ahead with their _Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes_ plans, and had unleashed the terror of _Canary Cremes_ upon the school. Eventually, the only food anyone trusted to eat now came exclusively from the kitchens.

The next change, and a far more important one to Harriet, was that boys seemed much friendlier to Harriet than usual. Some would hold doors for her even when Harriet was a half a corridor away. Boys she had never spoken to before in her life would say hello to her in passing. Boys would compliment her on her hair, even on days she put no more effort into it than putting it up in a ponytail. They would compliment her on how she looked, even when she was just wearing the same Hogwarts uniform she always wore.

The most conspicuous of the boys behaving in this way was Fred. Indeed, it felt as though almost everywhere Harriet went over the next couple of weeks, Fred was there. It was finally something that Harriet couldn’t ignore.

“Of course he fancies you, Harriet,” Hermione explained irritably as they studied together in the library. Hermione’s annoyance wasn’t at Harriet’s question, fortunately; Viktor Krum was back, as was his usual flock of giggling fangirls.

“He’s always fancied you, ever since he met you,” Hermione went on, huffily.

“But, how do you know?” Harriet asked. She liked Fred plenty, but she didn’t know why she couldn’t bridge that gap in her mind.

Hermione sighed, giving Harriet a gentler look.

“Well, it was always obvious to me. But perhaps that was because I was always looking on the situation from the outside.”

“But he’s… _Fred_!” Harriet replied, trying to keep the exasperation down in her voice. “He’s always been there like a… a…”

“Brother?” Hermione finished for her.

Harriet grimaced. That was how she’d assessed her feelings for Kieran too.

Hermione sighed again and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and thinking.

“I don’t know, Harriet, I’m… not going to pretend like I know everything about relationships. Maybe this is something you should ask Daniel about? Or Erica or Angelina? They have a bit more practical experience in this area,” Hermione suggested.

“Yeah… that’s a good idea,” Harriet said. “Angelina always said if I need help in this area to ask her…”

“Well, there you are then,” Hermione said with satisfaction. “Now let’s get out of here before the rest of them show up.”

They gathered up their books and headed out of the library. They returned to the Gryffindor common room and Harriet felt a sense of relief as she saw Angelina sitting with Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Erica.

“Angelina?” Harriet asked stepping up to the little group. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Angelina smiled. “What about?”

“Um, something in private,” Harriet asked.

“Oh, alright,” Angelina replied. She looked confused but smiled all the same as she rose and followed Harriet to a deserted corner.

“Something wrong?” Angelina asked. “More Slytherins giving you shit?”

“No, no,” Harriet said. “Well yes, but that’s normal. Anyway, remember how you once told me to ask you if I had any boy troubles?”

Angelina laughed. “Oh yeah, wow that was a while ago, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harriet replied awkwardly.

“Lemme guess, boy problems?” Angelina said shrewdly.

“Uh, yeah,” Harriet admitted.

“About that friend of yours, Kieran?” Angelina went on giving Harriet a teasing wink.

“Well, no actually, not exactly.”

“Oh? Then who?” Angelina asked.

“It’s um… it’s Fred,” Harriet finally admitted.

“Oh…” Angelina said, looking a little taken aback. “So, he um… he’s started to get through to you, then?”

“I don’t know!” Harriet said, starting to feel a sense of urgency. “That’s just it! I don’t know _how_ to feel about him! He’s always been really nice to me, and… I think I’ve known he likes me just… I don’t know how to deal with stuff like that.”

Angelina didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t looking at Harriet either. Instead, she was staring into the corner, with a distinctly frustrated look on her face.

“Well, look at it this way, Harriet,” Angelina said. “You’ve known both Kieran and Fred for the same amount of time just about, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And well, you have three and a half more years or so to be here. So does Kieran. But Fred only has a year and a half.”

“That’s… that’s true…” Harriet agreed.

“Exactly. So, I wouldn’t worry about Fred too much. If I were to nudge you in a direction, I’d say you have someone pretty great in that Kieran. I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite as level-headed a Gryffindor in my life. He’s calm, cool, he obviously thinks the world of you—”

“But, I just don’t know if I like him like that!” Harriet interjected, her sense of urgency rising. “Yeah he’s been all those things but I’ve never thought of him as anything other than a best-friend or like a brother, or… I don’t know.”

Harriet sighed and plopped back into her seat.

“Well, okay,” Angelina said. “The best advice I think I can give is, you’ve still got a lot of years left at Hogwarts, Harriet. You have plenty of time to worry about really getting a boy. And even then, I wouldn’t worry about it much.”

“Why not?”

Angelina laughed. “Because Harriet, almost no one ends up spending forever with the first person they date. I know my parents didn’t. Your parents probably didn’t, either. But that’s not a bad thing!” Angelina said quickly seeing the look on Harriet’s face. “It’s just like, a thing. I mean, look at Professor Sinistra. She’s freaking awesome, but clearly things didn’t work out in her favour there…”

“No…” Harriet agreed, wondering how much Angelina really knew about Professor Sinistra’s story.

“So, don’t sweat it too much, okay?” Angelina said. “And don’t get too wrapped up in looking for greener pastures when you’ve already got something pretty great right at your feet, yeah?”

“Yeah… that is a good point…” Harriet agreed again.

“Besides, you have waayyyy bigger things to worry about than that right now,” Angelina went on.

“Yeah, that stupid egg,” Harriet grumbled. She had been trying daily to work out what the egg meant, but so far all she’d managed to get were headaches from its screeching. Even Hermione and Scott were getting stumped.

“The egg?” Angelina said, confused. “Well yeah there’s that, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“What?”

“The _Yule Ball_ ,” Angelina said seriously. “They haven’t announced it yet, but we all know it’s coming.”

“Yule Ball?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah!” Angelina said excitedly. “No one’s announced it yet, but the Yule Ball was one of the Tri-Wizard Tournament traditions. Every Christmas they would hold a massive ball for students. They’re so going to do it again. If they’re going to hold a Hallowe’en party for us then of course they’re going to hold the Yule Ball again!”

Harriet felt her eyebrows rise high at the look of excitement on Angelina’s face.

“You’re excited about a ball?” Harriet asked. “ _You_?”

“Hey,” Angelina said shortly pointing a finger in Harriet’s face only an inch from her nose. “I can be a badass and a girl and no one’s going to tell me otherwise.”

Harriet blushed brightly, crossing her eyes to keep the tip of Angelina’s finger in view. “Sorry, sorry, I was just teasing!”

“I know,” Angelina said, her scowl vanishing, quickly replaced by her usual smile. “Just making my point.”

“Fair enough…” Harriet replied, rolling her eyes.

“So, I guess that’s the other thing,” Angelina said. “I wouldn’t worry about any specific boy at the moment, because as soon as that announcement is made for real, your problem isn’t going to be ‘a boy,’ it’s going to be _boys_.”

“Boys?” Harriet repeated.

“Yep. Mark my words, Harriet. You’re going to have a serious ‘boys’ problem in the near future.”

“But, why?”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “Harriet, you’re _Harriet Potter_ , every boy in the school is going to want to have you on his arm at the Ball. Every boy in the school is going to try and ask you to the Ball. And they will, because it’s sort of expected that boys ask girls to balls and dances.

“Not that they have to. You can ask a boy if you want, and if you want to avoid being constantly bombarded by boys asking you, you’re going to want to act on that quick-like.”

Harriet grimaced. This year wasn’t going to get any easier anytime soon after all, was it?

## * * * *

Harriet’s prediction came true almost immediately. First of all, Sirius’ worries about Skeeter’s chat with the refugees had also come true.

 

**_Harriet Potter Playing for the Wrong Team_ **

_As all but those who have been living under a rock in the middle of the Sahara Desert undoubtedly know by now, this year is the reopening of the infamous Tri-Wizard Tournament. Already, the Tournament was rocked with scandal when an underage student, none other than Harriet Potter, managed to get her name into the famed Goblet of Fire and was chosen as Hogwarts’ champion._

_Now, many have speculated as to how a girl of only fourteen was able to do so. Well, now I, Rita Skeeter, just might have found the source of this mystery. While reporting on the first task, I was unable to avoid notice of a large banner being held up by several students which declared: “_ GO HARRIET! OUR CHAMPION! _”_

_Thinking these were nothing more than simple Hogwarts students, I made my way over to them to gather their thoughts after the first task was over. I was surprised therefore to discover that these students were not in fact normal Hogwarts students. Instead, these students were more of the refugee Americans whom our government foolishly took in during the aftermath of the outbreak of the current American Wizarding Civil War. The same refugees who have brought the terror of Solomon Kinney to our shores, who just over a year ago destroyed the_ Daily Prophet _central offices in Diagon Alley, and caused international political outrage when he took part in a riot at the Quidditch World Cup where he assassinated Igor Karkaroff, esteemed headmaster of Durmstrang Institute of Magic, which nearly caused the school to pull its participation in the aforementioned Tri-Wizard Tournament._

_Now, what could these students have meant by calling Harriet Potter ‘their champion?’ While it is possible that these students have integrated themselves well enough into the school to consider themselves a part of the normal student body. However, this reporter also noted a much wider majority of the students wearing badges proclaiming:_ Support CEDRIC DIGGORY – the REAL Hogwarts Champion!

_So, it seems as though Miss Potter is not truly supported as the champion at the school after all. And if she’s not the school’s champion, then whose is she? During my questioning of the students after the task, I came to discover that Miss Potter has gotten quite cosy with many of the refugee students following their arrival, particularly after clearing their name from the disastrous Chamber of Secrets incident two years ago. Could it be that Miss Potter is not in fact competing for her true home nation and school, but instead is now playing for the other team, competing in the name of these parasites who take advantage of our hospitality and protection while perfectly innocent men, women and children die in their stead. No longer satisfied with that, are they now trying to claim Magical Britain’s chance at glory in the first Tri-Wizard Tournament in over a century?_

Harriet couldn’t read any more of the article past that. She was too disgusted. Fortunately, it seemed that the situation Skeeter had just thrown out dismissively, that the Americans had become part of the school, was true after all. However, while the other students didn’t seem to pay much heed to the article, that didn’t seem to have stopped the wider wizarding population of Britain at large. Hardly a day went by after the article came out without at least one howler being sent to the refugees at large, exploding in horrible diatribes and insults.

“Jeez, I see what they mean, Tyler,” Harriet overheard fifth year Gryffindor boy, Cormac McLaggen taunting Kenley Tyler as she passed the pair in the corridor. “You and your friends are just nothing but trouble, aren’t you?”

Harriet paused, her temper flaring immediately. She started over towards them but felt a hand on her arm. She looked back to see Hermione had stopped her. She had a rather wry smile and shook her head at Harriet before returning her attention to the scene.

Now that Harriet noticed, Kenley didn’t look the least bit upset at Cormac’s words. In fact, she was leaning back against a wall, and unless Harriet was much mistaken, there was a definite hint of a grin playing at the corners of Kenley’s mouth. Harriet blinked. Were Kenley and Cormac flirting?

“Right, because you and Chris are innocent little lambs, aren’t you?” Kenley retorted, her lips twitching more.”

“You know, I thought the whole ‘cheerleader’ thing was a bit of a joke when it went up on the notices but I don’t know, after that first task I might be changing my mind,” McLaggen said, leaning a hand against the wall too looking down at Kenley almost hungrily. “Though I gotta say you’d probably look better in red.”

“Oh-ho,” Kenley laughed. “Watch it, tig—”

“Kenley.”

Kenley jumped and turned. Harriet followed her gaze to see Draco walking up to the two. His expression was even harder to read than usual.

“Yeah, Draco?” Kenley asked.

“I, uh…” Draco fumbled for words. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Kenley raised her eyebrows. “About what?”

“Just, something important,” Draco said.

“Well, that’s nice, but the lady and I were talking,” Cormac said, a tone of impatience in his voice.

In spite of the fact that Cormac was about a head taller than Draco was, Harriet was surprised to see Draco didn’t back down. But he didn’t look at Cormac either.

Kenley however didn’t look all that impressed by Cormac’s words either.

“Hey, Draco’s my friend too and if he needs help, I’ll help him. You want to talk, you know where to find me,” she said, slipping out rather nimbly from Cormac’s arm and heading off with Draco.

As they departed, Harriet noticed Draco turn and give Cormac a look of pure venom. Cormac meanwhile was looking dumbstruck as he watched the pair head off.

Harriet turned to look back at Hermione. Hermione looked just as bemused as Harriet felt.

“Well come on, we’ll be late for Charms,” Hermione said.

Harriet could only nod in agreement as the two headed off together.

## * * * *

Harriet’s problems with Rita Skeeter did not end with the article about the Americans and the tournament, either. Her next run-in with Skeeter came at the next Care of Magical Creatures class. With the onset of winter, Hagrid had decided it would be a good idea to see if the Blast-Ended Skrewts hibernated. As it turns out (and as most the class had predicted) this was, in fact, a bad idea.

Within minutes, the entire grounds were a mess. Hagrid had provided ten pillow-lined boxes for the remaining Skrewts, all of which had been reduced to kindling and singed feathers that now scattered the ground outside Hagrid’s cabin; into which the majority of the class had now retreated.

“Don’t frighten ‘em now!” Hagrid cautioned as Harriet and her friends began herding the last of the Skrewts towards its cage, using jets of sparks and flames.

“Just try and slip a rope ‘round his sting, so he won’t hurt the others!” Hagrid advised as the Skrewt neared the others.

“Oh yeah, that’d be right ruddy awful, wouldn’t it!” Ronnie shouted as she dodged a jab from the Skrewt’s sting.

This time, Hagrid might have picked up on Ronnie’s sarcasm, as he didn’t try to give any more ‘helpful tips’ as they managed to back the Skrewt up to its crate.

“Well, doesn’t this look delightful.”

The sound of the voice sent a chill up Harriet’s spine. It wasn’t just that she recognized it at once as being Rita Skeeter. It was the sneer that she could hear in the voice without even looking, and the obvious hunger it contained, like a big cat preparing to pounce.

Rita Skeeter was leaning on the fence, watching with obvious amusement as Hagrid pounced and landed hard on the last Skrewt, causing it to blast out a jet of flame that withered one of his nearby pumpkin plants. She had her usual crocodile-skin handbag with her, and was wearing a magenta cloak with a thick furry collar.

“Who’re you?” Hagrid asked, distracted as he tied down the Skrewt’s sting.

“Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet_ reporter,” Skeeter replied, beaming.

“Rita Skeeter?” Hagrid repeated, rising up off the Skrewt and forcing it into its cage. “Thought Perfesser Dumbledore said you weren’t allowed inside the school no more?”

Harriet and the others exchanged glances. So at least Professor Dumbledore was on to Rita Skeeter’s malice. Skeeter however acted as though she had not heard what Hagrid said.

“What are these _fascinating_ creatures?” she asked, looking over the Skrewts.

“Blast-Ended Skrewts,” Hagrid explained.

“Really?” Rita said, so convincingly even Harriet thought there was a chance her interest was genuine. “I’ve never heard of them before. Where do they come from?”

What little of Hagrid’s face that was visible through his tangled mass of beard and hair went very red. Harriet felt her heart sink, and judging by the looks on the rest of her friends’ faces, they were all wondering the same thing. Where _had_ Hagrid got the Skrewts from?

“Well, they are _very_ interesting, aren’t they?” Jackson said, nudging Seamus in the ribs.

“Oh yeah, they’re a right treasure they are,” Seamus said sarcastically.

Dean scowled at Seamus before swatting him upside the back of his head when Skeeter looked away.

The moment Harriet dreaded the most happened next. Rita Skeeter’s eyes finally found her.

“Oh _Harriet_!” Rita Skeeter said. “Lovely to see you again. So, how do you enjoy Care of Magical Creatures? One of your favourite lessons?”

“Yes,” Harriet said, sniffing impatiently.

Hagrid beamed.

“Lovely,” Rita Skeeter replied, “Really lovely. Have you been teaching here long?” she asked Hagrid.

Harriet glowered as she saw Skeeter look over Lavender Brown’s singed robes, Damien Mallory of Slytherin nursing a burn on his friend Thomas Wright’s arm, Dean who was pressing a wad of cloth to a deep cut on his cheek, and the window of Hagrid’s cabin, where the bulk of the class (mostly Slytherins) were peering out to see if the coast was clear yet.

“Uh, year and a half now,” Hagrid replied.

“Lovely… I don’t suppose you’d like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience with magical creatures with the wider wizarding world? The _Prophet_ does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I’m sure you know. We could feature these—er—Bang-Ended Scoots.”

“Blast-Ended Skrewts,” Hagrid corrected, enthusiastically.

“Well, close enough,” Ronnie muttered.

“Er—yeah, why not?”

Harriet knew there could be nothing good about this. Trouble was, there was no way to convey to Hagrid the danger he was facing without Rita Skeeter noticing. Harriet simply had to stand by and glare as Rita Skeeter and Hagrid set up an appointment to meet at the Three Broomsticks later that week. Harriet wanted to warn Hagrid when the bell rang, signalling the end of classes. As Harriet and Ronnie’s next class was Divination all the way in North Tower, she didn’t have time to linger.

“She’s going to twist everything he says!” Harriet declared angrily as they as she stomped off towards the castle.

“Well, just as long as he didn’t import the Skrewts illegally or something…” Hermione said without much conviction.

“Or breed them illegally…” Marcus added, darkly.

Everyone exchanged worried looks. Both of those were exactly the kinds of things Hagrid would do.

“Well, Hagrid’s been in trouble loads of times before,” Ronnie said, sounding more cheerful. “And Dumbledore’s never sacked him. I mean what’s the worst that’d happen, really? Probably just a bit of a slap on the wrist from the Ministry and he’ll have to get rid of the Skrewts.”

“Actually, I think that’s a candidate for the best thing to happen,” Dora chimed in.

## * * * *

“Van Der Lakk, Lee, will you pay attention!”

It was the end of Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall was glaring dangerously at Marcus and Jackson Lee, who were having a sword fight at the back of the class with a pair of Fred and George’s fake wands. Marcus’ had now turned into a stuffed squirrel, and Jackson’s into a feather-duster.

Harriet wasn’t sure what the fuss was about, class was over after all. They’d already put the guinea-fowl they’d been turning into guinea-pigs. The bell was due to ring at any moment.

“Now that Van Der Lakk and Lee are acting their age, I have a very important announcement to make,” Professor McGonagall said. As she looked away, Jackson surreptitiously waggled his feather-duster in Rachel’s ear, causing her to jump and glare at him.

Harriet meanwhile had felt her sense of attention become riveted to Professor McGonagall. _This is it_ , she thought, _just like Angelina said, she’s going to announce the Yule Ball_.

“One of the great traditions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament is coming up: the Yule Ball.”

_Bingo_ , Harriet thought.

“It is an essential part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and is another chance for students from the various schools to mix and mingle. The Ball is open to those fourth year and above, however, younger students may attend if invited by a student of proper age.”

Lavender Brown giggled shrilly. Parvati elbowed Lavender hard in the ribs, though by the look on her face, she was trying very hard not to giggle out loud herself. They both turned and gave Kieran very significant looks and he went very red indeed. Harriet sniffed, suddenly feeling a bit irritable.

“Boys are to wear proper dress robes, while ladies shall wear dresses. The Ball will be held in the Great Hall, starting at eight, and finishing at midnight.”

Harriet felt her attention drifting. Now that the Ball was being announced officially, would Angelina’s other premonition come true? Would Harriet be hounded by boys wherever she went? They were already being much nicer to her than normal. And if they were, did that have anything to do with her? Or was it just because she was famous, or a school champion?

Harriet was brought back to her senses by the bell ringing. At once the class broke into conversation as every began gossiping about the Ball. Harriet began putting away her books when Professor McGonagall’s voice called her name.

“Potter, a word with you, if you please.”

Harriet finished putting away her books and made her way to Professor McGonagall’s desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had left before speaking.

“Potter, by tradition, the champions and their partners are expected to open the Yule Ball.”

Harriet felt her stomach knot up.

“O-open the Ball?” she asked.

“Yes, Potter. You and the other champions and their dance partners traditionally have the first dance of the Ball. So be sure that you get a partner, Potter. Not that I have much worry in that regard, but this is tradition, and as always, the honour of the school is at stake.”

“Yes, Professor…” Harriet said, miserably.

## * * * *

Unfortunately, both Angelina and Professor McGonagall’s predictions about boys asking her to the ball proved true within hours. They were on their way to History of Magic when a sixth year Ravenclaw boy who towered over Harriet, and she’d never spoken to before, asked her to the Ball. Harriet was so taken aback she said “no” without thinking, and then felt a bit guilty as she saw the boy return to his group of friends, all of whom were teasing him mercilessly as they made their way down the hall in the opposite direction.

The next person to ask Harriet to the Ball was Dennis Creevey. He looked put out, but somehow Harriet didn’t feel quite so bad about saying no, there.

“He’s a first year!” Harriet said as Ronnie and Marcus both doubled up with laughter.

“Well, Angelina’s right, Harriet,” Hermione said, giving the two her usual disapproving look. “You are going to be bombarded with people asking you unless you either say yes to one as fast as you can, or you ask one yourself.”

“Assuming whoever that is says yes,” Harriet retorted, resting her forehead on the table top, starting to feel despair.

“Well, is there anyone you’d like to go with?” Hermione asked.

“I… I don’t know,” Harriet said. “I haven’t really thought about it… I’ve kinda had a lot of other stuff on my mind, and the Ball was only made official today!”

“That’s fair,” Marcus agreed.

Harriet sighed. “Why does _everything_ in life have to be so complicated?”

“Well, it’s not if you don’t want it to be,” said Fred as he pulled up a seat next to them, spinning it around and sitting in it backwards, propping his elbows on the back.

“Yeah, why worry about what you don’t have to?” George chimed in, hopping up to sit on the table itself between Kieran and Marcus.

“Well right now I’m right in the middle of a tournament that hasn’t been held in like two hundred years because despite being under-age, someone put my name in to be chosen and now I’ve got to compete or I’ll go insane. So sorry if I’m just a wee bit tetchy,” Harriet grumbled.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Fred laughed, holding up his hands. “Not saying life doesn’t happen, just saying don’t take it so seriously. I can give you pointers there on the way.”

“The way where?” Harriet asked.

“The Owlery,” Fred said.

“Why am I going to the Owlery?”

“Because you’re so very nice and are going to let me borrow Hedwig to send a letter,” Fred said, grinning.

“Well you could use Widgy if—oof.”

Ronnie had started to offer Pigwidgeon, but Hermione elbowed her hard in the ribs.

“Well, yeah you can use her,” Harriet said.

“Well think it’d really be better if you came with,” Fred said, still smiling his casual smile.

“Um, well, okay then,” Harriet finally consented.

Fred’s smile grew and he led her away to the portrait hole. As they left, Harriet chanced a glance back at her friends. Hermione was focusing on her homework again, but had an ear to ear smile on her face. Kieran was ferreting through his bag and Harriet couldn’t see his face. Marcus and Scott were smiling after them, while Ronnie was looking bemused. Dora, however, was giving them both a look of pure venom.

“So, how’s your year been going?” Fred asked as he opened the portrait hole for them. “I mean besides the obvious. Don’t get to talk to you much with the tournament and all.”

“Eh, pretty much just the tournament,” Harriet said dismally as she climbed out after him. “I mean, if I’d entered myself that’d be one thing.”

“Yeah, no one likes being out of control,” Fred said, sagely.

Harriet snorted. “You? You and George are like chaos made human.”

“Hey!” Fred laughed. “We’re not chaos, we cause chaos!”

Harriet actually laughed. “I really miss hanging out with the Quidditch team all the time.”

“Me too,” Fred said, scuffing at a spot on the stone floor with his shoe as they walked. “Quidditch makes everything simpler. Just you, a broomstick, some balls, and your mates.”

“Heh, yeah…” Harriet admitted. “Just like… all I have to do is catch the Snitch… that’s it… now I have to figure out this stupid egg, and after that, I gotta figure out how to do whatever crazy task they’ve dreamed up…”

“Hey, you did pretty amazing in the last one,” Fred said.

Harriet actually stopped walking. Fred’s tone was so stark and not like himself it caught her completely off guard.

“Sorry,” Fred said and started walking again. “Just don’t like hearing you talk bad about yourself.”

“Kinda the only way I know how to talk about myself,” Harriet grumbled.

“Well, we need to fix that,” Fred said.

“What? You think I’m broken,” Harriet said. She didn’t know why she was putting up her guard so much. It was just Fred.

“No! No!” Fred said, backpedalling quickly. “But you deserve to be happy, Harriet. You deserve to look in the mirror and be happy with who you see.”

Harriet felt her cheeks reddening. She was about to say something when she stopped, looking around.

“Wait… we’re nowhere near the owlery,” Harriet said.

“Yeah… about that,” Fred said awkwardly, rubbing his neck with his hand, rather reminiscent of how Mr Weasley would rub his bald-patch. “I may have fibbed just a little bit in the interest of finally getting to talk to you on your own.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows.

“But, all for a good cause in the end,” Fred said, hopefully.

“And what cause is that?” Harriet asked.

“You saying yes to me asking you to go to the Ball?”

Harriet’s eyes went wide. Even now, she was kicking herself over having not seen it coming the moment Fred asked her to go somewhere alone.

And yet, as Harriet looked up into the older boy’s face, the gears in her head began turning very rapidly.

Fred had always been there for her when she needed him. He’d helped her with the guard at King’s Cross. He’d flown the car to Privet Drive to save her from the Dursleys. He’d carried her to safety after the _Daily Prophet_ bombing. He gave her the Marauder’s Map. He gave her the bracelet.

She thought almost involuntarily about Cedric now. Had he asked anyone? Or had anyone asked him? Was she doing this too soon?

Harriet looked back up at Fred again. Well, Cedric was handsome, but Fred certainly wasn’t unattractive. Indeed, as she looked up at him, she found had to admit that his face did have rather clean lines, and quite symmetrical (apart from the freckles). She suddenly found herself wondering how she’d never noticed before.

What’s more, it was just a Ball, wasn’t it? What was the harm in that? Just a big dance and dinner and pomp and circumstance.

Harriet felt her lips curl into a smile all on their own. The smile on her face revitalised Fred’s own smile, which had started to falter in Harriet’s hesitation.

“Okay. Yes, I will go to the Ball with you.”

Fred beamed.


	22. The Dress

“Belonging. It is perhaps mankind’s strongest urge. We may want to feel like we belong to a group of just two people, or a group of millions, all of us feel it. It is a desire so strong it can cause people to throw away everything they believe in for just the illusion of belonging.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The news that Harriet Potter was going to the Yule Ball with Fred Weasley spread through Hogwarts faster than Harriet had ever seen. The entire Great Hall was buzzing the next morning. Harriet could feel hundreds of eyes on her as she entered and took her seat at the Gryffindor table.

“What’s the big deal?” Harriet asked looking around self-consciously, “It’s just a dance?”

“Well, for one thing Harriet, a lot of boys were planning on asking you to the Ball. You shot all of their chances down almost instantly by saying yes to Fred right out of the gate,” Hermione explained.

“What’s wrong with Fred?” Harriet asked defensively.

“Nothing, of course,” Hermione said rolling her eyes. “But boys are going to be jealous.”

“Eh, let ‘em be,” Ronnie said, shovelling a hefty forkful of rashers into her mouth with indecent glee.

Harriet had been very surprised by Ronnie’s reaction. She hadn’t expected Ronnie to be upset by the news, but she certainly hadn’t expected Ronnie to be downright gleeful about it. Ronnie had spent the entire night grinning to herself.

What surprised Harriet the most was Dora’s reaction. All the way back to Gryffindor Tower, Harriet had slowly grown to dread how Dora would respond when Harriet broke the news to everyone. To her great surprise, Dora actually joined in the mini-celebration that had gone on in Gryffindor Tower. Harriet wondered if Dora had guessed that was what Fred was up to, and so had already prepared herself for the possibility of Harriet saying yes.

This morning was no different as Dora sat to join them.

“So, is everyone ready for the big day?” Dora asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

“The Yule Ball?” Ronnie asked. “Weeks away, isn’t it?”

“No, not the Yule Ball,” Dora said, rolling her eyes. “Weekend after this; Hogsmeade trip.”

“So?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Boys,” Dora sighed. “And Ronnie… anyway, hello! Dress shopping!”

“Oh that will be fun!” Hermione said. “You know I’ve never really had the chance to do any serious dress shopping.”

“Me neither,” Harriet said.

“Heh, like you’re going to have to do any dress shopping,” Dora teased.

“What do you mean?”

Dora rolled her eyes again. “Harriet you can be so thick sometimes. Do you think there’s the slightest chance Daniel _hasn’t_ had a dress ready made for you for like weeks now? Maybe even months?”

Harriet blushed brightly, suddenly feeling stupid.

“Well, maybe,” Hermione said. “But if he works with clothing this much, maybe he won’t have? I mean that is a big part of the fun isn’t it? Getting to try on dresses till you find that perfect one?”

“That… sounds… so… _boring_!” Dean Thomas said nearby, clearly having been listening in.

“Hey, just because you boys don’t give a damn about your appearance doesn’t mean we can’t,” Parvati said, crossly.

She and Lavender gave Dean and Seamus very stern looks indeed. Both boys seemed to shrink a little.

“We got our dress robes already,” Seamus insisted.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “We boys had to get ours before term even started.”

“Good,” Parvati grinned. “It’ll be interesting to see how you clean up.”

“Who said I need to clean up?” Dean asked.

“We did,” Parvati and Lavender retorted in unison.

“Wonder why they didn’t make us buy dresses ahead of time?” Harriet asked.

“Well, it’s sort of the nature of dresses,” Scott said. “Especially at our age because we’re all growing and girls are filling out, so, there’s a chance that in the time between the end of August when most students go Hogwarts shopping, and the end of December, your dress will fit a lot differently than it did when you got it.”

Everyone but Kieran was staring at Scott with bemusement. Scott looked around at them all, shrugging.

“Mum has to get dresses all the time for charity functions and things. I usually had to go along too for suits and things.”

“Oh yeah,” Ronnie said. “I always forget you’re one of those posh types like Dora.”

“I’m not posh,” Scott snorted.

“Well, Scott, you kind of are,” Hermione said sympathetically, reaching across Kieran to pat Scott’s arm. “But we love you anyway.”

Marcus sniggered into his pumpkin juice while Scott rolled his eyes.

“Well, you don’t act like it often, so there’s that,” Ronnie said cheerfully.

“Hey, there’s a lot to be said for not acting the way people would expect,” Erica Quoy said as she stepped up behind the group along with Fred and George.

“Yeah, take Harriet here,” Fred smiled.

“Me what?” Harriet asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Most famous witch in the world and still finds the likes of us worthy of her time,” Fred said, holding out a glass of pumpkin juice towards her like a toast.

Harriet felt her cheeks redden.

“Ah, you’re only saying that because she said yes,” George laughed nudging Fred’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m allowed to be nice to someone at least once a year with no ulterior motives aren’t I?”

George gave Fred a very sceptical look.

Fred laughed. “Okay, even well—even if I did, does it matter?”

“Nope,” George said.

Harriet gave Fred and ever-suffering look. Fred’s smile softened but he still gave her a wink as the three moved off.

“Well, you two are certainly playing it cool,” Dora observed as she watched Fred departing.

“Well, it’s just a dance,” Harriet said. “We’re not like… officially dating.”

Harriet suddenly felt a small rise of panic. “Oh god, we’re not, are we?” she asked feeling a bit frantic. “That’s not what he thinks this is, is it?”

“Harriet, calm down,” Hermione said. “I’m sure if Fred thought you were actually dating, there would be no confusion about it.”

“Yeah, subtlety isn’t exactly Fred’s forte. Remember the fireworks on the Quidditch pitch in our second year?” Kieran said.

“Yeah… good times…” Marcus said smiling wistfully.

Dora stuck her tongue out at him.

## * * * *

Over the next week, Harriet found herself coming around to the conclusion that she had made the right choice in saying yes to Fred so soon. For once it allowed Harriet to actually step back from the drama instead of being a part (or worse a cause) of it. It allowed Harriet to just sit back and watch as everyone else gossiped over who was going with whom, who people wanted to ask, what dress colours and styles they were likely to get.

Her biggest moment of excitement came when Hermione came late to the dormitory, just as the rest were getting ready for bed.

No sooner had she shut the door than there was a quiet hoot and a tapping at the window next to her.

“An owl?” Parvati asked. “At this hour?”

Hermione opened the window. From her angle, Harriet could not see the owl as Hermione leaned out. Hermione kept her back to everyone as she stood back up, closing the window again. Harriet could hear the sound of an envelope being opened.

“Someone just ask you to the ball?” Basheera asked with a knowing smile.

Even though she hadn’t turned around yet, Hermione slowly nodded.

“Who?” Rachel asked, sitting up and grinning.

Harriet sat up as well, dislodging her tiny Romanian Longhorn which had been sleeping on her shoulder while she read from her Charms book. It growled before crawling onto her pillow and falling asleep there instead.

Hermione slowly turned, the letter in her hands, her face very red but grinning a wide, toothy smile.

“Guess!” Hermione grinned wider still.

“Hmmmm,” Ronnie hummed to herself, leaning back on her bed thinking. “ _Malfoy_?”

“What?!” Hermione gasped. “No, don’t be silly.”

“Besides, he’s already going with Pansy Parkinson,” Parvati said, flipping a page of her _Witch Weekly_ magazine.

“Parkinson? Really?” Tori Hoffman snorted with disgust. “I thought he at least had some standards.”

“Bet you anything his father bullied him into it,” Harriet said. “He seems to be that type.”

“Yeah, the Parkinsons are another old wizarding family, like the Malfoys,” Ronnie agreed.

“So, enough fuss, who asked you?” Rachel said, turning the attention back to Hermione.

Hermione held her breath, looking as though she was going to keep making them guess when finally, the excitement burst out of her.

“Marcus!” Hermione said.

Rachel gave a squeal of delight and hurried over to Hermione. They took each other’s hands and bounced up and down in place, giggling.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!” Rachel said.

“…Please never do that again…” Ronnie said sounding a little disgusted.

“Oh just because no one’s asked you yet,” Rachel snapped.

Ronnie glowered to herself. Hermione hurried over to Harriet holding out the letter. Harriet smiled, taking it and reading.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know we see each other every day and it’s probably a bit silly of me not to ask in person, but if I did I’d probably trip all over myself trying to get the words out so I thought maybe this would find you a bit more privately._

_So, would you go to the Ball with me? Just you’ve done so much for me in the last year. After having to deal with my boggart, and then after seeing Karkaroff… well, don’t know how I would have gotten through it all without you. So I hope you say yes._

_Lots of love,_

_Marcus_

 

“You don’t have to be asked, you know?” Lavender said to Ronnie reassuringly, drawing Harriet’s attention back to the room as she handed Hermione back the letter. “Lots of girls are asking boys, too.”

“Like who?” Ronnie asked, though she didn’t sound terribly interested.

“Well, I hear Pixie Fanfarró actually asked Cedric Diggory to the ball. He turned her down of course, he’s going with Cho Chang.”

In spite of her good feelings over going with Fred, Harriet couldn’t help a small jolt in her stomach at hearing this.

“Anyway, she’s going with Blaise Zabini now,” Parvati said.

“That’s a match made in hell,” AJ grunted.

Everyone laughed.

“Who are the other champions going with?” Harriet asked.

“Well, Fleur Delacour is going with Roger Davies,” Lavender explained knowledgably.

Rachel whistled. “Not sure who made out better there.”

The room went quiet as they considered the question.

“Davies,” they all agreed in unison.

“What about the rest?” Hermione asked, not bothering to look up from Marcus’ letter as she reread it on her bed.

“So far, Krum, Aello, and Kazu are unaccounted for,” Lavender answered. “Rumour has it that Kazu has asked someone, but no one knows who it is.”

“Ugh, that’s no fair,” Parvati said, switching places with Lavender to comb her hair now. “We should at least get to know so we can talk about it!”

As the night wore on, Harriet felt an odd sense of giddiness rising up inside her. These were things she’d never really cared about, or thought about before. Why was she suddenly so interested now? As she looked around the circle of beds, everyone smiling and laughing, she decided that it wasn’t so much to do with the topic, as for once having something she felt like she could relate to the rest of them with. She finally felt like everyone else.

“Has Kieran asked anyone yet?” Tori asked.

“You know… I don’t think he has,” Parvati said. “I know a lot of girls are asking him, but apparently he keeps turning them down.”

“Why do you ask?” Harriet asked Tori. She did her best to keep her voice casual.

Tori simply shrugged. “Well we’ve just accounted for pretty much everyone in our year but him and Neville.”

“What about you?” Ronnie asked. “You never said who you were going with?”

Tori gave a little sheepish smile that didn’t suit her usual tomboyish nature. “I’m going with Chris Jerome.”

“Jerome?” Ronnie asked sitting up. “That big prat who hangs around with that bigger prat, McLaggen?”

“Chris… isn’t that bad,” Tori said. “Not as bad as Cormac anyway, especially when you manage to get him on his own.”

“I heard Cormac’s going with that Slytherin girl, you know the one? She was the one who got petrified in our second year,” Lavender said.

“Kenley?” Harriet asked in surprise.

“That’s her,” Lavender said. “Ugh, poor girl, she could do so much better.”

“Jackson asked me just after Transfiguration today,” Rachel blurted out randomly, giggling.

“Yeah, we were there, remember?” Ronnie said.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“What about you, AJ?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

“Me? Oh, I’m actually goin’ with Cedric Diggory.”

“ _What?!”_ Parvati and Lavender both gasped.

AJ fell back on her bed laughing. “No! I just wanted to see what you’d do if I said that.”

Parvati rolled her eyes and resumed brushing Lavender’s hair.

“What about you, Basheera?” Harriet asked over AJ’s laughter. “I would have thought you’d be going with Neville?”

“Well…” Basheera said awkwardly. “I…”

“Well, don’t hold out too long or someone else might ask him,” Hermione said in an encouraging tone.

“Are we talking about the same Neville?” AJ said, trying to quell her laughter.

“Neville has come a long way,” Basheera said indignantly. “He is very nice and kind and has a good heart and loves all living things and—”

“Whoa nelly!” AJ said. “I was just joshin’ ya. Neville’s a great guy.”

“Joshin’?” Basheera asked.

“Teasing,” Tori explained. “Joking around, kidding.”

“Ohhhh,” Basheera nodded. “But… that is not the issue…”

“What is then?” Rachel asked.

“It’s not allowed, is it?” Hermione asked. “Dancing?”

“Not exactly, no,” Basheera admitted. “The rules are… open to interpretation, but for a dance like the Yule Ball, no.”

“Well, you can still go, can’t you?” Parvati asked. She actually looked aghast at the idea of not at least going to the Ball. “I mean… just not dance?”

“I’m… I’m not sure,” Basheera said awkwardly. “I… I’ll have to write father and ask.”

The room went very quiet after this.

Harriet looked around, fishing for something to talk about to change the subject. “So, why is Kieran turning everyone down?”

Lavender shrugged. “He says he can’t dance because of his leg anyway, so he’s just going to go with Scott and Dora as a group.”

Harriet sat up a bit. “Scott’s not going with anyone? I would have thought he’d go with Atsuko.”

“Yes, I thought that was a bit strange too,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“She’s going with that Mount Phoenix boy,” Parvati said. “Marius.”

“The one who played the piano at Hallowe’en?” Harriet asked.

“That’s the one,” Parvati replied.

“That was rather cute that they had such complimentary costumes,” Hermione agreed.

“You know, speaking of that, I’m a bit surprised at you,” Parvati said turning to look at Harriet.

“Why?” Harriet asked.

“Well, I would have thought you’d have asked that Rathlin boy you keep writing to,” Parvati replied. “The one you danced with at the party.”

Harriet felt her stomach shrink again a bit. “Well, yeah, I mean…” Harriet fumbled for words. “It’s not that I didn’t think about it just… Fred’s right here… and he hit me with the question right out of the gate… and I’ve known him so much longer… and I mean, are Rathlin students even allowed to come?”

“I’m not sure,” Hermione said. “But I suppose Fred is the more sensible decision. Don’t feel bad, Harriet.”

“You better not,” Parvati said pointing at Harriet and narrowing her eyes, though the corners of her mouth were twitching. “You got one of the hottest boys in the school to ask _you_ to the dance. You darn well better not regret it!”

“Although… if you _did_ have second thoughts…” Lavender said in a tone too casual to be believed.

“But you’re going with Seamus aren’t you?” Rachel asked.

“Gee, Seamus, or _Fred_ Weasley…”

Again there was a moment’s pause before everyone chimed in: “Fred!”

Ronnie however simply groaned in despair, flopping back on her bed.

## * * * *

Finally, the day arrived. Harriet could feel the excitement in the air as everyone awoke on Saturday the seventeenth, the final Hogsmeade weekend of the year and the day everyone was going dress shopping. Many of the girls, like Parvati and Lavender, were excited because their own mothers were travelling up to Hogsmeade to help their daughters shop. Even Mrs Weasley was coming to shop with Ronnie.

Ronnie was not very happy about this.

“It’s going to be a nightmare,” Ronnie said as they made their way down to the Entrance Hall. “I’m going to get the most horrible dress in the whole shop.”

“Well, at least you’ll be able to go?” Harriet said, trying to grasp for any bit of encouragement she could.

Judging by the look on Ronnie’s face, it had far from worked.

“Yeah, how terrible it must be to have a mother to go shopping with,” Rachel said.

Harriet looked at Rachel, taken aback. Rachel’s tone had been downright venomous, quite unlike her usual cheerful attitude. Ronnie spluttered a bit, going as red as her freckles.

“Sorry, Rach, I didn’t mean anything by it…”

Rachel simply sniffed and walked off ahead of them to catch up with Tori and AJ.

“I get so used to them being around,” Ronnie said, watching Rachel’s back. “You kinda forget they’ve gone through all that…”

“Yeah…” Harriet agreed. She considered pointing out the fact that Harriet herself didn’t have a mother to go shopping with, and as Hermione’s parents were muggles, they couldn’t come shopping with her either, but the look on Ronnie’s face told Harriet that Ronnie felt bad enough.

“Ah, there you are,” came the cheerful, familiar voice of Professor Sinistra from behind them.

Harriet turned around to look up at her professor and running partner and smiled. “Hello, Professor,” Harriet said. “Going into Hogsmeade?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Professor Sinistra said. “And since Rosie and Nanette are too young to attend—”

“Well, they could if someone who is old enough… asks… them…” Ronnie said, trailing off as she took in the look on Professor Sinistra’s face.

Clearly, the idea of older students asking Professor Sinistra’s daughters to the ball was not on with her. Remembering what Professor Sinistra had told her about her days in school, Harriet figured she understood why.

Professor Sinistra hitched a smile back on her face as she turned back to Harriet. “Well, since Rosie and Nanette are too young to attend the Ball, I’ve decided I will go along as your unofficial ‘mother for a day’ to help you pick out a dress for the Ball. How does that sound?”

Harriet felt her cheeks get a little warm, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that’d be great,” Harriet said, feeling her mouth turn into a very wide smile all on its own.

“Marvellous,” Professor Sinistra said. “Follow me then, Harriet.”

“Oh my Ronnie!” shrieked the unmistakable voice of Mrs Weasley from the doors to the Entrance Hall.

“Oh Merlin,” Ronnie groaned as Mrs Weasley hurried over to them. She pulled Ronnie into a rib-cracking hug. Quite a few people around them sniggered openly.

“And Harriet!” Mrs Weasley said, giving Harriet an equally tight embrace.

“Hello,” Professor Sinistra said politely. “You must be Mrs Weasley. I’m Professor Sinistra, your daughter and Harriet’s Astronomy professor.”

“Oh hello!” Mrs Weasley said taking Professor Sinistra’s outstretched hand in hers. “Ronnie has told me _all_ about you.”

Ronnie went scarlet.

“Wonderful,” Professor Sinistra said. “Well, let’s all go into town together then, shall we?”

“Together?” Mrs Weasley repeated.

“Well, yes, I was going to take Harriet into town for her dress shopping.”

Mrs Weasley’s smile faded a little. It was clear that Mrs Weasley had intended to take Harriet in for her shopping.

“Umm, Mrs Weasley,” Hermione said stepping up to the group.

“Oh, hello Hermione dear,” Mrs Weasley said cheerfully giving Hermione an equally tight hug. As she did so, Harriet could just hear Hermione whispering something in Mrs Weasley’s ear. Mrs Weasley’s eyes went wide and after they stopped hugging she looked at Professor Sinistra with an overly polite and cheery smile.

“Oh yes, o-of _course_ , Professor, that would be lovely.”

Professor Sinistra smiled as though nothing had happened. “Please, call me Aurora.”

“Aurora,” Mrs Weasley corrected herself.

She turned and gave Harriet a very glowing, knowing smile before she began shepherding the little group towards the entrance.

“What did you tell her?” Harriet asked Hermione under her breath as they walked across the grounds towards the gate.

“Oh, nothing terribly secret,” Hermione said, grinning an enigmatic smile before speeding up to talk with Mrs Weasley so that Harriet could not ask her anymore questions.

Finally, they reached Daniel and Remus’ shop. Harriet and Hermione both openly giggled at the giant “No Boys Allowed” sign that had been hung over the entrance. Predictably, there was barely room to move inside. The combination of students and their parents made the shop much more full than usual, even with the internal enlargements.

Harriet was looking around hopefully for Daniel, but couldn’t see him anywhere. She caught sight of Remus, though he was behind the counter, both he and Hyland inundated with irritable mothers.

“Well, let’s get looking, shall we?” Professor Sinistra suggested, gesturing to a section that was not as full as the others.

“Okay,” Harriet said as she and Hermione followed Professor Sinistra over.

Professor Sinistra perused the selection with deep scrutiny. Finally, she took one from the rack. “Here, let’s try this one?”

Harriet blinked as Professor Sinistra held it up to her.

“It’s… very pink,” Harriet said looking it over, doubtful.

“Oh you never know until you try,” Hermione said. By the look on her face, Hermione was enjoying herself a little too much.

Harriet sighed and took the dress and headed into the changing room.

“I look like a fairy princess,” she said dismally as she stepped back out a few minutes later.

Hermione looked as though she was doing her best not to burst out laughing. Harriet rolled her eyes. The dress was a shiny, lurid pink, with salmon sash and bow, and large, poofy shoulders and sleeves. The trunk fitted her a little tight, while the skirt was floor length and poofed out wide in an almost perfect half-globe.

“Actually, rather like the Fat Lady,” Hermione said, failing at not laughing.

“Nope, definitely not,” Professor Sinistra said with no hesitation. Harriet noted that she already had another dress ready. “Back into the changing room with you.”

Harriet actually rather liked this dress. It was a blood red velvet, floor length that seemed to fit her well. The only thing she didn’t like was the odd fur collar.

“Nope,” Professor Sinistra said the moment Harriet walked out. “Certainly not.”

Off Harriet was whisked into the changing room again. This time with a strapless red dress, with only a knee length skirt. It would have been nice, Harriet thought, if not for the gigantic bow on the bust that was almost wider than Harriet’s shoulders.

“Absolutely not,” Professor Sinistra said.

Despite her seeming disdain for all the dresses Harriet tried on, Harriet couldn’t help but sense that Professor Sinistra was enjoying herself more and more with each dress. Harriet couldn’t help but remember her first time in Ollivander’s, how he had made her try nearly every wand in the shop until finally her wand chose her. _Well,_ Harriet reminded herself as she tried on yet another dress, _when this is over, it’s highly unlikely my dress will have anything to do with Lord Voldemort_.

After two hours, Harriet had tried on nearly every dress in the shop. Finally, she was starting to get a bit irritable. She just wanted her dress, and the chance to see Daniel, who still seemed to be absent from the shop.

“Oh dear,” Professor Sinistra said, giving an overly dramatic sigh. “It seems as though we’ve tried every single dress and not a single one will do…”

“It’s just awful,” Hermione said, adopting much the same tone.

“Unless of course… she tries on that one,” Professor Sinistra said, leaning to the side to look past Harriet.

Harriet turned around and her mouth fell open.

Daniel was there, beaming almost as bright as he had after Harriet had got past her dragon. Beside him, he had his hand on a dress form, and on it was a truly magnificent dress. It was silver, and strapless, tight fitting along the top, with the skirt loose and flowing, only knee length in the front, tapering down to floor length in the back. It was also covered in a very fine golden lace, which covered the top entirely, until it reached the skirt, where it split at the left hip, covering only the right side of the skirt, leaving the left silver. The effect of the lace was to make the dress look either gold or silver, depending on how the light hit it.

“Oh…” was all Harriet could manage to say as she took in the dress.

Daniel just kept smiling.

“Well, guess you better try it on so we can get the adjustments right, shouldn’t you?” Professor Sinistra said.

“O-oh, yes,” Harriet said.

“I’ll help you,” Hermione insisted and moved to the form, wheeling it after Harriet into the changing room.

“I… I don’t…” Harriet managed to say as she just stood in the little room, looking at the dress.

“I don’t think you have to say anything,” Hermione said, helping Harriet out of the dress she was currently wearing.

“You knew?” Harriet asked.

“Of course,” Hermione replied, putting the dress back on its hanger before turning her attention to the new dress.

Harriet felt a little unreal as Hermione helped her into the dress. It felt silky smooth, as though she wasn’t wearing a dress at all, despite how well it hugged her torso.

“I may or may not have been sneakily guessing your measurements for Daniel for a while,” Hermione admitted.

Harriet didn’t really hear her. She was too busy staring at herself in the mirror.

“I… I look…”

“You’re gorgeous,” Hermione said, clasping her hands together over her mouth as she always did she got overly excited.

Harriet felt her lip tremble a little.

“Harriet, are you okay?” Hermione asked.

“I just…” Harriet fumbled for words. “I just never, ever thought I’d get to do things like this… I expected I’d be living with the Dursleys forever… wearing second-hand clothes, never…”

Hermione stepped around in front of Harriet, hugging her tight around the shoulders, leaning over awkwardly so not to press on the dress.

“Well, you aren’t living with the Dursleys forever, and you have someone who loves you like a daughter, and best friends like us,” Hermione said leaning back, her own eyes over-bright now.

“How’s it coming?” Professor Sinistra called.

“R-ready,” Harriet said, still too emotional to keep the choke out of her voice. Hermione opened the door and Harriet stepped out of the little changing room and onto the shop floor again.

Professor Sinistra put her hands over her mouth and audibly gasped. Remus had come over and was standing with Daniel now, an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Both were beaming, Remus in fact rubbed a knuckle against the corner of his eye. Harriet was sure he’d wiped away a tear.

“Oh my gentle goodness,” came the voice of Mrs Weasley as she came over with Ronnie in tow.

By the looks of it, they had picked out Ronnie’s dress and already had it wrapped up. Ronnie didn’t look terribly happy about it.

“Oh Harriet,” Mrs Weasley continued. “You look stunning, simply stunning.”

“Th-thank you, Mrs Weasley,” Harriet managed to say. “Thank all of you…”

“Oh, Harriet dear,” Mrs Weasley said, hurrying over and drawing a handkerchief to dab Harriet’s eyes for her.

“The-uh… the train still drags a bit,” Daniel said, sounding as though he was doing his best to keep it together too. “I’ll adjust that, and we’ll get you some nice heels, that will help too.”

Harriet didn’t hesitate before she hurried over and flung her arms around his neck as tightly as she could. Daniel chuckled and hugged her back.

As they hugged, Harriet opened her eyes. The first person she saw was Professor Sinistra. At first, Harriet thought Professor Sinistra was looking at her, but then realized she was mistaken. Professor Sinistra wasn’t looking at her; she was looking at Daniel. Professor Sinistra did look at Harriet now, and Harriet saw her cheeks go a little red. Harriet just smiled and closed her eyes again.

“Well, Harriet dear,” Mrs Weasley said as Daniel lowered her to her feet again. “We’ll let Daniel get to work with the last adjustments for you while we take care of the last bit.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“Why, finally getting your ears pierced, dear.”

Harriet’s smile vanished at once.

## * * * *

The final week of term seemed to drag on forever. Predictably, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape kept their noses to the grindstone right up to the final class. The other professors, however, gave in to the inevitable and let students play games and talk during the last few lessons.

Professor Flitwick in particular seemed glad of the chance to finally talk to Harriet about how well she’d performed her Summoning Charm and the Conjunctivitis Hex.

Other classes were not so lucky. Professor Snape would sooner adopt Harriet and Neville than let anyone play games in his class.

“Well, I can’t entirely blame him,” Dora said reasonably as they left the final Potions lesson of the year. “I mean, imagine if we were playing Exploding Snap and it blew up in there?”

“Yeah, that’d bring down half the castle,” Marcus agreed.

“Say, let’s go down to Hagrid’s,” Harriet said. “We haven’t been down to see him in ages.”

“I’ll… I’ll catch you all up,” Hermione said thoughtfully as they reached the bottom of the stairs up to the Entrance Hall.

“What’s up?” Kieran asked.

“I forgot something,” Hermione said.

Harriet noted that Hermione was looking down the corridor towards the Hufflepuff common room.

Hermione took a deep breath and apparently made up her mind. “Catch you all later,” she said and hurried off.

“Anyone else get that odd, ominous feeling?” Marcus said as he watched her disappear down the corridor.

“She’ll be fine,” Dora said. “Only one of us in any danger now is Harriet, remember?”

“Thanks, Dora,” Harriet muttered.

“Don’t mention it,” Dora said, throwing Harriet a little wink before they headed up into the Entrance Hall.

They met Scott outside the Great Hall and they all headed down to Hagrid’s. They greeted Aurochius on the way out.

“Hello all,” Aurochius greeted them cheerfully. “Where’s Hermione?”

“She’s trying to liberate the house elves,” Dora answered without skipping a beat.

“She’s what?” Ronnie said.

Dora rolled her eyes. “Okay, she’s started a club called the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, which none of us have really joined, and now just ran off in the direction of the kitchens after doing her ‘I’m off to do something brave on my own so I’m not telling you anything’ thing she always does. What else do you think she’s doing?”

Scott groaned and Kieran sighed. Marcus actually looked a little hurt.

“Really? She might have asked me to come…”

“Isn’t that just who Hermione is though?” Kieran said reasonably. “Just… runs off and does her own thing all the time?”

“Yeah…” Marcus said still sounding put out.

They wished Aurochius a good day and headed down to Hagrid’s. Hagrid was presently tending his front garden. They all gave the crates of Skrewts uneasy looks as they passed. Hagrid however smiled down at them pleasantly as they approached.

“Ahh, there yeh are. Was wonderin’ when yeh were all gonna make it down to me.” As with Aurochius, Hagrid looked around for Hermione. “Where’s Hermione?”

“Whipping up the house-elves into rebellion,” Dora replied sarcastically.

“Ah now, I doubt that,” Hagrid said and bowed them into his cabin.

“Well, I don’t know what she’s going to accomplish,” Harriet said, taking her usual seat at Hagrid’s table. “Daniel took me to the kitchens last year, the same night Sirius took Erica. It was pretty cool actually. But the elves all seemed pretty happy.”

“Of course ‘ey are,” Hagrid said as he put a kettle on the rack over his fire. “They live a life of luxury compared to some of ‘em. Like yer elf Dobby when ‘ee was with the Malfoys.” He nodded at Scott. “But most of ‘em live decent enough lives with fam’lies that treat ‘em like one of their own. And here at Hogwarts they get all the best wearin’s and there’s plenty of work and they get treated some of the best in the world.”

Hagrid sighed. “But I mean, settin’ them loose. Set the ones ‘ere loose and there’s a good chance many of ‘em would end up working for folk like the Malfoys. They tend ter go through elves a bit faster than others…”

“Heh, Hermione could stand to be here for this,” Dora said.

“Nah, her heart’s in the right place, Hermione,” Hagrid said quickly. “Just ain’t gonna be as easy as she thinks. It’s a bit like teachin’ a hippogriff not to bite or scratch.”

Everyone gave each other uncomfortable looks.

“Yeh can do it, just takes time,” Hagrid continued. “’Spectin’ a whole other magical race ter think the very same way yeh do about summut, though. That’s gonna be a whole other animal, that is.”

“Heh, you should have told her this last time,” Marcus said.

“Ah, well, she did kinder spring it on me,” Hagrid admitted. “Didn’t know really what ter say! But I’ve had me time to think on it aft’wards. And hey, I did buy one of her badges, didn’ I?”

They lunched with Hagrid, before heading back to the castle.

“We should go down to try and find Hermione,” Marcus said as they crossed the threshold into the Entrance Hall.

“Good plan,” Kieran agreed.

They headed down but were stopped on the staircase by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff.

“There you lot are,” Ernie said, puffing a little, out of breath. “We were coming to look for you.”

“For us?” Harriet asked. “Why? What happened?”

“Parkinson and Fanfarró,” Justin answered darkly. “Ambushed her on the stairs.”

“Where’s Hermione?” Marcus asked.

“Hospital Wing,” Justin said. “Professor Sprout took her right there.”

Marcus ran off at once.

“Wait, she’s going to be okay!” Ernie called after them as Harriet and the rest gave chase.

Harriet was kicking herself. Why hadn’t they gone with her? Hermione was the best in their year at every subject, but she wouldn’t have put it past Parkinson or Fanfarró to have done something to Hermione when her back was turned.

“We’re here to see Hermione,” Marcus said to Madame Pomfrey as they entered the Hospital Wing.

“I’m here,” Hermione said from a nearby bed.

To Harriet’s great surprise, Hermione was actually smiling at them, and wasn’t even in the bed. She was sitting calmly in the chair next to one as Miss Momori walked away, scribbling onto her notepad and pocketing her wand.

“Sorry about that. It was a silly thing,” Hermione said, picking up her book bag as she stood and walked over to them.

“What happened?” Marcus asked. “What’d they do?”

“Oh, nothing really, like I said, a silly thing,” Hermione answered. “Don’t get upset.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. Hermione was still beaming toothily at them, and looking quite pleased with herself.

“Are… you sure?” Dora asked. “Sure you don’t have a concussion or something?”

“Or got hit with a Cheering Charm?” Ronnie suggested.

“Nope,” Hermione said. “I’m the epitome of health.”

Hermione stepped past them leading them back into the corridor.

“Hermione…” Marcus said. “Your teeth…”

“Yes?” Hermione asked. “What about them?”

“They’re… different.”

“Different?”

“Yeah… now you mention it…” Scott said looking at Hermione with scrutiny. “You had her shrink them, didn’t you?”

Hermione turned back around and gave them all another glowing smile.

“You did!” Dora gasped.

Finally, Harriet noticed. She was so used to Hermione’s prominent front teeth that she took them for granted. But as she took in Hermione’s smile, it was clear Hermione’s buck teeth were gone.

“What did they do?” Marcus asked, bewildered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and resumed walking. “Well, Parkinson and Fanfarró cornered me when they saw me coming up the staircase back into the Entrance Hall. I figured you all were still at Hagrid’s and I was in such a rush to tell you what I’d seen I wasn’t paying much attention. So they stepped out and well… they engorged my front teeth so much they’d grown down to my waist by the time Professor Sprout got me to the Hospital Wing.”

“No!” Marcus gasped. Harriet noted his hand almost instinctively moving towards his wand.

“Yes,” Hermione said dismissively. “At first I was horrified, of course, but then Miss Momori gave me a mirror to look in as she shrank them back to size and well… I just let her keep going a bit.”

Even from the side, Harriet could see the little twinkle in Hermione’s eye.

“But didn’t you say your parents wanted you to keep using your braces?” Marcus said.

“Yes, they don’t really think teeth and magic should mix, but I was done with them once and for all. And there’s nothing they can do about it now.”

“So, what was this big excitement that caused you to let your guard down around those gits?” Ronnie asked. “Finally get your rebellion?”

“I’m not after rebellion, Ronnie,” Hermione said sharply. “But I do have to show you all. Come on!”

Hermione began to hurry back the way they’d come and down the stairs again. She stopped at the portrait of fruit and tickled the pear which giggled and turned into a door handle.

“That’s all you had to do?” Ronnie scoffed. “Fred and George always made it sound like they had to climb halfway up the bloody mountains and back.”

The group stepped inside the kitchens. Hermione was looking around eagerly, as though trying to spot someone. The room looked exactly as Harriet remembered. The ceiling was high, and the room itself was the same size as the Great Hall which was directly above. Brass pots and pans, all scrubbed so clean they had mirror finishes, hung all around the walls. There was a giant fireplace at the other end of the room, and the middle was filled with four long tables, positioned directly underneath the house tables, along with a smaller table for the staff.

There was a brief moment where Harriet couldn’t help but giggle as rows of bright, round eyes of many colours popped up over the tops of the tables.

“Wow, there really are a lot of house-elves,” Marcus observed.

The elves were all walking towards them now, smiling warmly and bowing deeply. They were all still wearing the same sort of uniform they had worn when Harriet last came here, white tea-towels worn like a toga, and stamped with the Hogwarts crest.

“Ah, there she is,” Hermione said.

“She?” Kieran asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied and pointed to one of the elves. “Winky.”

Harriet blinked. She hadn’t recognized the little elf at first. The last time Harriet had seen Winky the house-elf, Winky had been flailing about throwing a fit over being given clothes by her owner at the time, Barty Crouch.

The Winky in front of them now was completely changed. She was smiling broadly, wearing a tea-towel just like the rest.

“Winky?” Harriet asked. “You’re working here now?”

“Oh yes, Miss Potter,” Winky said, bowing.

“How did you start working here?” Dora asked, kneeling.

“Winky was most miserable, Miss. Winky could not even think to find work. But then, Master Dumbledore came to Winky and offered her work here at Hogwarts. Winky is now a Hogwarts house-elf. Winky has purpose and meaning to her life again!”

Harriet and Kieran gave each other uncomfortable looks. Hermione twisted her lips, clearly disapproving of Winky speaking that way.

“Well, you’re over working for Mr Crouch then,” Hermione said trying to sound more cheerful. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Winky’s smile faltered, and the corner of her left-eye twitched. One of the other house-elves gave Winky an apprehensive look and sidled up to Hermione.

“Do not mention Winky’s past owner, Miss. Winky does well when Winky has work to do to distract her from her past owner and being given—” The elf gave Winky another nervous look before whispering in Hermione’s ear, just loud enough that Harriet could overhear “— _clothes_. But she is losing focus and enjoyment in her work when she thinks of them.”

Winky’s lips began to tremble. The other elves crowded around Winky, guiding her back to the tables where she went back to work, washing more pots and pans from lunch. As she washed, Winky seemed to cheer up once more.

Harriet and the rest all looked at each other awkwardly.

“Please do not judge us all by Winky, young sirs and misses,” another of the elves said. “The rest of us take complete enjoyment in our work and proper pride in our roles serving such wonderful students.”

Ten minutes later, they were heading back up the stairs.

“That… was weird…” Marcus said.

“Yeah,” Dora actually agreed. “I mean… that was…”

“They all seem so happy, but… with Winky there…” Kieran added. “And the way they all talked about her…”

Everyone fell silent. Harriet didn’t blame any of the others. She had a hard time putting how she felt into words too.

“I… on the one hand, I see what Hagrid said, they’re better off here than somewhere like the Malfoys,” Harriet reasoned. “But at the same time… looking at Winky, even that feels like it’s a bit of a… ugh, what’s the word?”

Harriet looked at Scott.

“Façade?” he suggested.

“Uh, I guess,” Harriet said. “Still… you guys pay Dobby; you care for him…”

“We do,” Scott agreed.

“But even those of us who do have elves in the more traditional sense, we _do_ care for our elves,” Dora said. “Offering clothes or pay or anything to our elves… I don’t know how they’d take it. How do you fix something that goes that deep?”

“I wish I knew,” Ronnie said.

She hesitatingly put an arm around Dora’s shoulder. Dora sighed and rested her head against Ronnie’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I just have a lot to think about I guess,” Dora said and then tried to move away. “I’m just gonna go to my room…”

Ronnie responded by actually hugging Dora’s shoulders tighter. “No,” Ronnie said with surprising firmness. “We’re friends and we all stick together, got it?”

Everyone raised their eyes at Ronnie. Even Dora looked taken aback, but slowly nodded.

“One things’ for sure,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“If we’re gonna fix house-elves… the elves themselves are probably not the place to start…”

## * * * *

Harriet felt a strong sense of relief when the final day of classes came to an end. Harriet happily sat with her friends at the Gryffindor table for dinner.

“Omigosh,” Dora said. “It’s only two days! Can you believe it?”

“And we have our next football match tomorrow,” Ronnie said, sounding much more excited at that prospect than the Ball.

“Yeah, match should go better this time,” Marcus agreed. “Us verses Hufflepuff this time. I saw their match against Ravenclaw, both are doing a lot better with more practice.”

“That’s wonderful,” Hermione smiled.

“We’re doing a lot better too,” Ronnie said. “Might have the makings of a real match this time around.”

“Isn’t Slytherin in the tournament?” Kieran asked. This won’t be your last match will it?”

Dora rolled her eyes. “We were originally sitting out, but after the first match went over so well, Professor Snape agreed to let us have a team. But he requested extra time to you know—assemble players, get them properly outfitted and trained—”

“Otherwise known as stalling for the good weather in spring,” Harriet grumbled.

They had done the same trick the year before, using Malfoy’s injured arm as an excuse not to play Gryffindor at Quidditch. As a result, Harriet had lost her first Quidditch match after the Dementors guarding the school flooded the pitch. In spite of this, Harriet had to laugh a little internally at the irony that had they actually played, they probably would have won. Instead, they lost to Gryffindor in the final match, this securing Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup for the first time in years.

“Isn’t it a bit snowy out to play a sport like that though?” Scott asked.

“I guess Professor Flitwick said he’ll vanish the snow for us before the match,” Marcus said.

“That’s good,” Harriet said, smiling.

“Hey, Harriet…” Rachel said, leaning over towards Harriet. “Think you have a visitor.”

“What?” Harriet asked.

Rachel pointed to the door and Harriet looked around. Her heart jumped. Daniel and Remus were standing in the doorway to the Great Hall, looking around before spotting her and smiling. Harriet rose but Daniel had already started towards her.

“Hey Harricane, packed?” Daniel asked.

“ _Harricane_?” Harriet asked.

Daniel laughed. “Thought I’d try it out. After the first task it seemed to fit. Anyway, packed?”

Harriet blinked. “Packed?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said.

Remus smiled down at her as he approached too. “Yes, it will be a bit strange wearing the same thing all holiday, won’t it?”

Harriet tilted her head. “But… what?”

Daniel and Remus simply continued to smile down at her. Finally, the truth clicked in Harriet’s brain.

“Wait… I’m coming to stay with you?”

“Yep,” Daniel replied. “I know you’d signed up to stay at Hogwarts, but… funnily enough the Headmaster just so happened to find a loophole.”

“The loophole of just asking him, you mean?” Remus chuckled.

“Yeah, that,” Daniel said.

Harriet didn’t know what to think. She felt like she’d gone numb from shock and happiness. She sprang up at once to hug Daniel as tightly as she could. Daniel laughed hugging her back. There was a wave of giggling and open laughter sweeping the Great Hall. A few students whistled too.

Harriet didn’t care. She couldn’t care. For once, she was the one who had somewhere to go for the Christmas holidays. She had a place to go, and could still attend the Yule Ball. Her head was positively swimming as Daniel finally set her back down.

“So, packing?” Daniel chuckled.

“Y-Yes…” Harriet said. “N-now you mean? Like, we’re leaving now?”

“Yes,” Remus said smiling politely.

Her legs worked entirely on their own. She moved past everyone and all but ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Her heart was pounding and her lungs burning but she didn’t notice as she began frantically stuffing all of her clothes back into her trunk. She kept having to stop and think, making sure she remembered everything. The last items into the trunk was her jewellery box and the golden egg. She’d almost left the room when there was a screech from her bed. She hurried back to her bed, scooping up her model Longhorn, putting it on her shoulder.

She carried her trunk awkwardly back down the staircase and jumped at the sight of Remus and Daniel already standing in the Gryffindor common room, along with her friends. Remus was smiling around the room with an air of nostalgic contemplation. Daniel, however, had his back to Harriet. She leaned to the side just enough to see that he was talking to Fred, who had a very serious look on his face, indeed.

“—Her carriage will be picking her up at quarter-past twelve.” She overheard Daniel saying to Fred.

“Yes, Mister Dusk,” Fred said seriously.

Harriet just barely stopped herself snorting. It was bizarre seeing Fred look so serious and nervous.

“Good,” Daniel said before turning back to Harriet.

He smiled up at her and gave Fred a nudge with his elbow. Fred jumped and hurried forward.

“I’ll help you with that, Harriet,” Fred said, taking her trunk.

Harriet didn’t know why, but she noticed something else about Fred in that moment. She remembered too well how much he had struggled with her trunk during her first trip on the Hogwarts Express. Now, while he grunted a bit, he certainly didn’t seem nearly as encumbered. She noted how strong his arms looked, how broad his shoulders were. He was only sixteen, but he was starting to bear a rather strong resemblance to Charlie.

“Well, shall we be off?” Remus suggested.

Harriet nodded but then paused, looking at the rest of her friends.

“You… you’re all okay with this?” she asked. It just sank in to Harriet that this was going to be the very first Christmas holiday she had spent away since coming to Hogwarts.

“Go,” Dora said rolling her eyes.

“Yeah,” Kieran agreed. “It’s not like we won’t see you at all. You’re only down in Hogsmeade.”

“And we’ll all come down to get ready for the ball together,” Hermione added.

“Good,” Harriet said, smiling.

They headed out the portrait hole and down the many staircases to the Entrance Hall. As they stepped out into the grounds, Harriet saw one of the Hogwarts’ carriages waiting for them. Fred hoisted Harriet’s trunk into the passenger compartment as Harriet one by one gave her friends hugs.

She paused as she got to Marcus. Once more, he was standing frozen, staring at the front of the carriage.

“You alright?” Harriet asked.

Marcus jumped coming to his senses.

“N-nothing,” he said quickly. “I-I mean, yes.”

Harriet gave him a searching look but he just smiled. So, she simply gave him his hug and finally she came to Fred.

“So, I’ll see you Sunday?” she asked, feeling a bit awkward.

Now that they were going to the dance together, something felt different about talking to Fred. He felt like a whole new Fred to her somehow. She suddenly realized she had no idea how to act around him anymore.

“Yes ma’am,” Fred said, raising one hand to his brow as if tipping an invisible hat to her.

“Well, shall we be off then?” Remus suggested.

“Okay,” Harriet said before turning back to her friends. “See you all Sunday!”

Her friends waved to her and Harriet climbed into the carriage, Remus and Daniel following.

“ _Dusk til Dawn_ ,” Daniel said through the little window to where the horses would be on a normal carriage and at once the carriage began to move forward.

“So, Harriet,” Daniel said, leaning towards her. He had a concerned look on his face now. “Your friend there, Marcus.”

“Yes?”

“He was the one who saw when Karkaroff was killed, wasn’t he?”

Harriet nodded. Daniel and Remus exchanged looks. There seemed to be some unspoken understanding passing between the two and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

The carriage arrived and Remus opened the door. Harriet stepped out after him, followed by Daniel. Remus took Harriet’s trunk while to Harriet’s surprise Daniel walked up to the front of the carriage. As Harriet watched, Daniel took something from his pocket and held it out, looking around surreptitiously. Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open as whatever it was Daniel was holding vanished. Daniel patted thin air and turned back around.

Harriet looked away quickly. She didn’t want him to know she’d seen him doing whatever he’d just done. Daniel and Remus each took a handle of Harriet’s trunk and carried it around the carriage, which started off again, turning around and heading back to the school. Harriet looked up and smiled finally taking in Daniel’s house. It was modest in size, at least on the outside. It was a simple looking two-story flat, with pleasant blue-grey shingle siding and white trimmed-windows.

Harriet followed Daniel and Remus up the steps. She felt an odd tingling sensation as she stepped over the threshold. The interior was a bit bare, at least compared to the Dursleys’ and the Weasleys’. There was a small hallway table which had a plant on it in a vase. To their right was a small sitting room with a sofa, two recliners and a coffee table. To the left was the kitchen, which Harriet noted had an ice box rather than a proper refrigerator.

“Being so near to Hogwarts, things like fridges don’t work very well,” Daniel said, noticing Harriet looking at it.

“Well, I’ll get back to the shop and you can continue the tour,” Remus said. “I’ll see you tonight after closing, Harriet.”

Harriet gave him a hug goodbye and followed Daniel as he resumed the tour.

“Back here is mine and Remus’ rooms,” he said, pointing out two rooms past the stairs up to the second floor. “And um, the stairs down to the basement.”

Harriet noted that Daniel didn’t seem eager to lead Harriet any further on the ground floor and instead he started up the stairs with her trunk.

“You’ll be staying up here,” Daniel said more cheerfully as Harriet followed.

“Heh, Remus and I have meant to do more decorating, just… not much time between running the shop and everything else,” he continued self-consciously.

“It’s wonderful,” Harriet said, sincerely.

Daniel smiled back at her when they finally reached the top. There were four bedrooms up here, one over where the kitchen, sitting room, and ground-floor bedrooms were.

“We picked out this one for you,” Daniel said, leading Harriet to the room over the sitting room. “It has the best view.”

Harriet smiled at the sight. The room was just as plain, but it had a bed at least as large as her bed at Hogwarts, a desk and chair, and a large bay window with pillows in it. Harriet hurried over to the window looking down. It had a full view of the Hogsmeade high street. Harriet could watch everything happening down below, and had a view of the castle itself in the distance.

“Well, I’ll let you unpack. I’ll be in the kitchen making some snacks if you want,” Daniel said. “The bathroom’s right next to you here when and if you need it. Um… welcome home, for now…”

Harriet hurried over and hugged him tight around the waist. Daniel smiled and hugged her back.


	23. The Yule Ball

“I am often asked how I succeeded in such a terrible war. Perhaps the key to fighting a war is understanding that there is a continuous war being waged within all of us? Ever are all parts of our minds in conflict: love, anger, fear, sadness, joy. All parts vie for control. If one can control that melee, they can control any battlefield.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet’s first full day at Daniel’s was fairly relaxed. She and Daniel made their way up to the school to watch the football match. Remus remained behind to tend the shop with Hyland. Gryffindor won, so Harriet got to celebrate in the Great Hall with the Gryffindors for lunch before returning to Daniel’s house. Daniel then went to the shop while Remus returned to the house with Harriet.

Harriet spent that night setting up her room. This proved more difficult for Harriet than she’d thought. Every time she would finish something, the reality that it was not permanent would wash over her and she’d find herself sitting for a while just looking at her belongings.

“How’s it coming?” Remus asked as he leaned into the room around dinner time, checking in on her.

“Okay,” Harriet replied. She’d only managed to put away half her belongings by this point.

Remus gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Well, there’s no rush. You have a whole month, after all.”

“That’s true,” Harriet admitted.

Hedwig hooted lowly from the top of her cage on Harriet’s dresser.

“Besides, tomorrow the girls will all be here to get ready for the Ball with you,” Remus said, his tone more cheerful.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied. That did cheer her up a little bit.

Remus studied her shrewdly for a moment. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s just…” Harriet sighed. “Know that this won’t last…”

Remus sighed softly, walking over and sitting next to Harriet on the bed.

“Well… let me tell you something your father once told me shortly before you were born. It’s something that’s gotten me through a lot of hard times.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“Well…” Remus said pausing and thinking. “Do you like flowers?”

“Well enough, I guess,” Harriet said. “Aunt Petunia used to make me work in her flower bed for her all the time. Why?”

Remus’ jaw clenched for a moment before he hitched a smile back on it. “Well, that was the analogy that James used: ‘You have to think of life like a flower, Remus.’ A lot of people like flowers. But flowers don’t last forever. So why do people value them so much?”

Harriet looked up at Remus, confused.

“It’s _because_ they don’t last forever,” Remus explained. “Something beautiful, no matter how briefly they last. That makes them even more valuable to some people. You have to look at life like that.”

“Like a flower?”

“Exactly,” Remus smiled. “Nothing lasts forever, even the good times. But that doesn’t make the good times any less valuable. It makes them more valuable.”

Harriet nodded, understanding now. “Huh… I’ve never thought of it that way before.”

“Not many people do, but it got me through a lot of hard times,” Remus said. “The years after your—” Remus cleared his throat “—Sirius went to Azkaban in particular. Daniel went on his crusade to prove Sirius’ innocence… your parents were gone… Sirius was in Azkaban… I thought Peter was dead as well… All I really had was to remember the good times, and be happy that I’d experienced them, and the happiness they gave me.”

Remus looked down at Harriet again. “So, however short it might last, just think that right now, you’ve been given a flower. It’s happy, and beautiful, but it won’t last forever, and for that, it means even more.”

Harriet looked out the window, digesting what Remus had told her. She was distracted momentarily by Hedwig hissing at her Longhorn, which was crawling around the top of her dresser, probably looking for somewhere to sleep.

Remus smiled down at her again and patted her shoulder. “Now, Daniel and Hyland should be heading back from the shop for dinner shortly. Let’s go meet them and head out to the Three Broomsticks for dinner together for a treat. Deal?”

Harriet smiled in earnest. “Deal.”

## * * * *

Harriet fought back a wince as Mrs Weasley pulled a bit of her hair. Mrs Weasley had come to help the girls with their hair before the Ball. It was Harriet’s turn now, sitting in front of the mirror with a copy of _Witch Weekly_ spread out on the table in front of them, open to a page of moving images of witches styling their hair.

Mrs Weasley had parted Harriet’s hair in the middle, pulling most of it back and fashioning it into a high, tight knot. She held it there as she leaned over, rummaging inside her handbag.

“This belonged to my aunt, Tessie,” Mrs Weasley said, setting a small box on the table in front of Harriet.

Harriet took the box and opened it, her eyes widening at what was inside. It was a white Chinese comb, intricately carved, depicting four Chinese dragons encircling a mountain, surrounded by clouds.

“It’s erumpent,” Mrs Weasley said awkwardly. “Erumpent hair combs were once the mark of the highest of society,” Mrs Weasley said. “They were so dangerous to make, not just to get the horn, but then to craft it without exploding. I… I would have used it on Ronnie’s hair, but… well she just doesn’t have enough hair to use it.”

Harriet’s cheeks got very warm. “Thank you, Mrs Weasley…” Harriet said. “I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything, dear,” Mrs Weasley replied. “You’re going to look beautiful for Fred.”

Harriet fought back a grimace.

“It’s okay that he and I are going together, right…?” Harriet asked.

“Oh of course dear,” Mrs Weasley laughed. “Fred’s never stopped talking about you since they day we helped you onto the train for the very first time.”

Harriet felt as though her face was going to burst into flames as she handed the comb back to Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley smiled pleasantly, taking it and gently sliding it into Harriet’s knot, holding it in place. She’d left two long strands loose in the front, which she now took and sprayed with a can called _Helvig’s Hair Heat Protection_ before coiling them around her wand. The wand glowed faintly and Harriet could feel the heat radiating off of it.

“I thought about leaving some of your hair down in the back, but I thought this style would show off your neck and jawline better, dear,” Mrs Weasley explained. “You have a lovely face; you really need to show it off more.”

“Um, thanks Mrs Weasley,” Harriet replied awkwardly.

“Besides, it will show off these lovely earrings and your necklace too,” Mrs Weasley said.

Harriet smiled a little. She was wearing the necklace and earrings that Daniel, Remus and Sirius had given her at the start of term. In fact, she’d worn them nearly every day since finally getting her ears pierced.

Her hair finished, it was time for the dresses. Harriet was excited to finally see everyone else’s dresses. Ronnie’s wasn’t quite as horrible as Harriet had worried, but it looked like it came from the same time-period as the comb in Harriet’s hair. It had a white top with purple polka-dots, a purple bow on the collar with white and purple stripped sleeves. The top half of the floor-length hoop skirt was also white and polka-dotted, while the bottom was solid purple and layered with micro-pleats all around.

Hermione’s dress was much nicer. It was a periwinkle blue; the top and skirt made of satin with chiffon shoulders and layered chiffon on the skirt. Hermione’s hair had also been put into a knot like Harriet’s though Mrs Weasley had slicked hers down so it was shiny and smooth. According to Hermione, it had taken almost an entire bottle of _Sleekeasy’s Hair Potion_ to get the desired effect.

Dora’s hair looked much the same as it always did, sleek and parted down the middle. It was Dora’s dress that made the biggest statement. The dress was satin like Hermione’s, though a bright red, and the skirt only came to her knees. It also had chiffon, but unlike Hermione’s dress which layered it in floaty ruffles, on Dora’s dress it was wound round and round her. It covered the shoulders and cascaded down Dora’s back almost like a cape, while the bottom stretched to floor length.

“Stunning, girls, simply stunning!” Mrs Weasley said, a hand on her heart as she took them all in.

Daniel and Remus simply applauded, beaming. Behind Mrs Weasley’s head, something moved in the small hand mirror that Harriet had hung on the wall. Harriet smiled and gave tiny wink to the grinning face of Sirius.

The girls all headed downstairs, waiting in the sitting room for their carriage to the school.

“Can you believe it’s finally here?” Hermione asked, her face full of excitement.

“Yeah, great,” Ronnie muttered.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t turn down _everyone_ who asked you,” Hermione said.

Ronnie shrugged. “They were all just stupid boys.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “They weren’t _all_ stupid boys, Ronnie. You might have said yes to Susan Bones at least,” Hermione went on. “She’s very nice and she did look very put out when you said no.”

Ronnie sniffed, looking a little guilty. “Well, maybe I’ll dance with her at some point…”

“Your carriage is here, girls,” Mrs Weasley said, stepping into the sitting room.

All four of the girls rose at once and headed for the door. Daniel and Remus were standing either side of the doorway, holding the girls’ shawls for them. Harriet draped hers around her shoulders and stepped out into the chilly night air. They climbed carefully into the carriage and it set off at once for the school.

“So, how do you think Marcus is going to look?” Dora asked Hermione, giving her a little wink.

Hermione flushed. “Oh, I’m sure he will look nice,” she said vaguely.

By the look on her face, Dora did not buy Hermione’s nonchalance. They didn’t have much more time to talk, as only a few minutes later the carriage arrived at the front entrance to the school. Ronnie opened the door, climbing out first, followed by Hermione.

Harriet stepped out next. She smiled warmly as she saw Fred walking up to her. He was wearing a white, ankle-length jacket, a gold waistcoat, a sky-blue button up shirt with a white western bowtie, finely pressed white trousers, and well-shined black shoes.

Fred smiled his usual, confident smile as he bowed and held out a hand for her. Harriet couldn’t help but smile back as she took it, stepping down from the carriage.

“You… you look fantastic,” Fred said.

“Thanks,” Harriet blushed. “You look really nice too.”

“I try,” Fred laughed and looked down at her hand, grinning wider. “Still wearing it I see.”

Harriet looked down too and saw that he was talking about the bracelet he had given her secretly for Christmas the year before.

“Well, I told you I would keep wearing it, didn’t I?” Harriet smiled more.

Fred positively beamed as he held out his arm for her. Harriet took it and together they up to the school. Harriet looked around in wonder at the grounds. They had been completely transformed, now featuring a grotto in front of the school that was full of tiny, twittering fairies that were dancing about the rose bushes and all around the large statues of Father Christmas and his reindeer.

The Entrance Hall was equally festive. It was decked with holly, and the railings of the great marble staircase were lined with Everlasting Icicles. The walls seemed to sparkle with little specks of light that kept floating downwards, as if it was snowing within the walls themselves. The suits of armour were all singing Christmas carols, while the sound of excited voices filled the room.

“Champions over here, please!” called the voice of Professor McGonagall from the doorway to the Great Hall.

Harriet and Fred made their way over to her, the crowd parting to let them through. Professor McGonagall was wearing a red tartan dress, and had fashioned a wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. Professor McGonagall surveyed them all, counting the champions off as they approached. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Krum and Aello and opened her mouth as if to say something but instead she merely sighed and told them all to wait to one side so that the other attendees could enter the hall first.

Harriet took in the other champions. Fleur and Roger Davies were standing nearest to the door. Davies looked to be in a daze as he starred at Fleur. Fleur however seemed to be paying little attention to him, and instead was smiling radiantly at everyone who passed.

Next to them was Cedric and Cho. Cedric was wearing what looked to be a proper tuxedo with a cloak, while Cho was wearing a silver dress with long sleeves and a high-collar. Harriet twisted her mouth but gave her head a little shake to put them out of her mind. She had to start being realistic, she told herself. Cedric was nice, and handsome, but what chance did she really have with him? Especially against the likes of Cho, who was much closer to him in age.

Next was Krum and Aello. She saw at once why Professor McGonagall had looked so exasperated: neither seemed to have partners. Harriet puzzled over this; Krum in particular. Krum had been so inundated with requests to go to the Ball by his little gang of followers that he barely left the Durmstrang ship. How had he not said yes to any of them? At the very least he would have had someone to lead the dancing with, which Professor McGonagall had said was so important.

Aello however, Harriet had to admit, wasn’t much of a surprise not coming with a dance partner. From what Harriet gathered, every boy in the school was a little afraid of her. Indeed, Aello wasn’t even wearing a dress, instead her outfit looked more akin to the boys’ dress robes.

Something about Krum then caught her eye. Krum usually looked surly, but all of the sudden his face turned downright unpleasant. Harriet followed his gaze wondering what could have set him off, but all she saw was Hermione and Marcus passing. Not knowing what to make of that, Harriet returned her attention to the other champions.

Next to her was Kazunari and a girl who Harriet thought looked familiar, but couldn’t quite place. Harriet puzzled over Kazunari. He was wearing the very same suit that he’d worn when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Harriet had thought the rather shabby suit had been part of his ruse, something he wore to look less intimidating and silly, so people would underestimate him like Sirius and Professor Moody had said. But if that was the case, why would he be wearing it to the Yule Ball?

The girl caught Harriet’s eye and gave her a warm smile. She was very pretty, her shoulder length brown hair done up in tight ringlets, and positively beaming as she held onto Kazunari’s arm. She was wearing a yellow taffeta floor-length dress which complimented her olive complexion well, Harriet thought. It was held up with lacy black shoulder straps, and belted high on the waist with three thin black lace bands that were studded with tiny silver gemstones that danced in the light as she moved.

“Hello Harriet,” the girl said. “Your dress is amazing, did Daniel make it for you too?”

Harriet blinked a little. “Umm, yes.”

“It’s gorgeous,” the girl said before turning her attention away to give hugs to Taylor Middleton and Ari Miller of Hufflepuff.

As she saw the three of them together, the truth hit Harriet like a sledgehammer. Harriet had hung out with the girl over the summer at McIntyre Manor. The girl had cheered for Harriet as part of the cheer squad during the first task. Harriet had written to Daniel and Remus about her after her nightmare and they’d taken the time to explain about her at the World Cup. Kazunari had come to the Yule Ball with Alee Jameson.

Now that Harriet had wised up, she saw that she was far from the only one who noticed. Many were gawping as they passed. Still others were giving Alee looks of confusion as though they were also trying to figure out who she was. Alee simply beamed at all of them as they did, smiling so widely that Harriet was sure her face was going to get stuck that way.

Finally, everyone else was inside and Professor McGonagall beckoned the champions in. Harriet smiled as she took in the festive beauty of the Hall. The usual twelve Christmas trees lined the walls. The walls themselves were covered in a fine silvery frost, and hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy criss-crossed the starry ceiling.

Professor McGonagall was leading them to a large, round table that was set where the staff table normally was. All around the hall there looked to be another hundred or so smaller tables all lit with lanterns. The other attendees were all sitting around them, about a dozen or so to each table.

Harriet felt all the eyes of those gathered around the table on her and the rest of the champions as they made their way to the largest table. She focused much harder than she usually did on walking as they moved along. She didn’t want everyone’s memory of her at the Yule Ball being that of her falling on her face. Fortunately, as the dress only came to her knees in the front, she didn’t have to worry about tripping on her dress.

 _Thank you for that_ , Harriet thought, picturing Daniel in her head as they reached the table.

The judges all rose and applauded the champions as they arrived. Most of them looked pleased to see them all. Professor Cato did give Aello an ever-suffering look as he noted she had no dance partner, but he applauded them the same as everyone else. Professor Ilves on the other hand looked as though she could care less about Krum having come alone.

The rest of the hall applauded and the champions began to take seats. Beside her, Fred groaned. Harriet immediately saw why. Fred’s older brother, Percy, was also sitting at the table. Percy pulled out the chair beside him, giving Harriet a pointed look. She made her way over with Fred, who looked less than thrilled about this. In fact, when they reached Percy, Fred made a point of pushing the chair back in before pulling it out again to offer it to Harriet. Percy scowled, but said nothing about it.

Harriet sat, feeling more than a little embarrassed, but also distinctly amused.

“I’ve been promoted,” Percy told Harriet without preamble as the judges all sat. “I’m now Mr Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”

“That’s wonderful,” Harriet said though Fred rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t he come?”

“I’m afraid Mr Crouch isn’t well, not well at all. Hasn’t been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising – overwork. He’s not as young as he was – though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then Mr Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehaviour of that house-elf of his, Blinky or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterwards—”

Harriet felt her sense of regret in accepting the offer to sit beside Percy rising dramatically.

“Wow Perce, sounds like you on the fast-track now,” Fred said. “Next thing you know he’ll stop calling you Weatherby!”

Percy scowled but fell silent. Harriet raised an eyebrow at Fred but he just gave her a playful wink and one of his devilish grins. In spite of herself, Harriet giggled.

Professor Dumbledore remained standing and spread his arms wide. Silence fell over the room at once.

“Welcome to the Yule Ball,” he said in his warm, glowing voice. “Our festivities for the night will begin with dinner until eight thirty, at which point the dancing will commence. At nine, I’m pleased to announce that the Weird Sisters will take the stage and things will undoubtedly get rather lively around here. Now, let us all enjoy fine food and caring company!”

The room clapped and Professor Dumbledore sat. As Harriet watched, he picked up the small menu that was lying in front of his plate, perused it carefully before speaking to his plate: “Pork chops!”

In a blink, pork chops appeared on his plate. Everyone else got the idea and gave their orders to their plates too.

“Heh, wonder how Hermione feels about this,” Fred said after finishing his order.

“Yeah, probably means a lot more work than usual for the elves,” Harriet agreed.

“Well, it’s not like they have to do this every day,” Fred said cheerfully, tucking into his dinner.

Harriet finally ordered, smiling as the Duck à l'Orange appeared on her plate.

“Oooo, going all fancy are we?” Fred teased, taking a bit of his steak.

“Well, it’s not like I get to eat like this every day,” she quipped back, causing Fred to laugh.

As she ate, Harriet took in the other champions. Fleur was going on at length to Davies about what Christmas was like at Beauxbatons.

“Zis is nothing,” Fleur said dismissively. “At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we ‘ave ice sculptures all around ze Dining Chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course… zey are ‘uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze palace. And ze food is seemply superb. And we ‘ave choirs of wood-nymphs, ‘oo serenade us as we eat—”

Harriet stopped listening, but she kept studying Fleur, thinking about what she’d just said. She thought back to the previous year, talking with Meinos the satyr. He’d mentioned nymphs, and how the satyrs hadn’t seen them for centuries. She wondered if Meinos knew.

Cho leaned over to Harriet. “Who does she think she’s kidding?”

“What?” Harriet asked. “Fleur you mean?”

“Yeah, Wood-nymphs,” Cho scoffed. “I’ve read about Beauxbatons. They’re wood sprites; totally different. No one’s seen a nymph in centuries.”

“Davies doesn’t seem to notice,” Harriet observed as Davies slapped his hand down on the table in agreement with something Fleur had just said.

“Yeah, well…” Cho sighed. “Boys, right?”

Harriet giggled. Cho smiled and returned her attention to Cedric. Harriet looked past them to Aello and Krum, and saw that they were also deep in conversation about their schools, though their discussion seemed a bit more down to earth.

“Our school is located in a valley betveen some mountain ranges,” Krum explained. “Eet is a castle also, though not as large as this, or as comfortable. Ve have only four floors, and fires are only lit for classes like Potions, but our grounds are very much larger.”

“Mount Phoenix is on top of a mountain,” Aello explained. “Though I suppose the name indicates that. It is modelled on the Palace of Nestor.”

“Is it true that you are also taking lessons vith other magical creatures such as vampires and minotaurs like at the doors?” Krum asked.

“It is,” Aello said, shooting Bagman a dirty look. “They were not allowed to participate in the tournament because it would be _unfair_. Personally, I enjoy the challenge, to match wits against strength.”

“Then why did you not decline, as Rath-a-line did?”

“Professor Cato said that it would be better for us to get into the tournament first, then change minds later. Easier to change things from within than out.”

Krum nodded, digesting the information. She looked at Kazunari and Alee. They were talking too, but too quietly for Harriet to overhear. They were hardly eating, just talking quietly, taking occasional bites as they looked at each other, smiling softly. As she watched, Alee rested a hand on top of one of Kazu’s, giving it a little squeeze. Kazu beamed back, before promptly dropping his fork.

 _Well, maybe it isn’t_ entirely _an act_ , Harriet thought to herself, fighting back a giggle.

Harriet now turned her attention to listening in on Professor Dumbledore’s conversation with a man Harriet did not recognize. Unlike everyone else, the man wasn’t wearing dress robes. He looked to be a little older than Daniel, Remus, and Sirius in age. He had rugged features, dark blonde, almost brown hair, a strong jawline and bright blue eyes.

“I’m pleased you accepted my invitation, Nickolas,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I apologize for the short notice but I wasn’t aware you had returned to Britain until I received your owl.”

“Thank you for extending it,” the man replied, his voice a thick Scottish brogue as he laughed in a good natured way, taking in his golden goblet. “Though my apologies I’m no’ exactly dressed for the occasion. It is a bit lavish compared to my usual living arrangements.”

“Yes, I suppose it is rather more comfortable than the Serengeti or the Amazon,” Professor Dumbledore chuckled.

“Blimey,” Fred muttered. “I recognize him now.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“That’s Nickolas Sutler, that is,” he said under his breath. “Most famous magizoologist since Newt Scamander. Legend he is. Charlie used to sit George and me down in front of the wireless to listen to him talk about his adventures when he was just starting out. He got bored of that though and he’s pretty much lived in the field ever since. Not exactly a people person from what I understand. Charlie _still_ worships him.”

Harriet returned her attention to the man. He and Professor Dumbledore were now speaking in very hushed tones and she could no longer hear what they were saying. But as she watched, Sutler handed Professor Dumbledore something. Harriet couldn’t quite see what it was, but it seemed to be a small package.

Professor Dumbledore opened it out of sight, under the edge of the table. He looked down at it for a long time. He looked up at Sutler again, who was giving Professor Dumbledore a very serious expression. Professor Dumbledore rewrapped the little package and handed it back to Sutler who pocketed it at once.

Unsure of what to make of that, Harriet now turned her attention to the other tables instead. She saw Kenley Tyler eating at a nearby table with McLaggen. Or at least, Kenley was trying to eat. McLaggen however seemed more interested in putting his arm around Kenley’s shoulder and talking boisterously to his friends as if she was a trophy. Kenley was trying to keep her head low, and looked as though she was deeply regretting her decision.

At the next table, she saw Draco and Pansy Parkinson. Harriet couldn’t help but notice they were almost the same situation but reversed. There, it was Pansy who was beaming around at everyone, while Draco was paying her no mind whatsoever. Instead, his eyes were glued on Kenley and McLaggen. Rather than eating, he was absent-mindedly stabbing his food over and over again with his fork.

Harriet returned her attention to Fred and the two chit-chatted until dinner finally wound down and the lanterns all dimmed. She looked to the stage and saw a tall figure approaching, though Harriet could not make them out clearly. Her heart skipped a moment that it might be Finn, but as the lights rose on the stage, she was disappointed to see that it was in fact a girl standing at the microphone.

The disappointment was not long lived, as it was replaced by how struck Harriet was at the girl’s beauty. She was very tall, with long blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders and past her hips. She looked to be a few years older than Harriet, sixth year at least. Her eyes were a perfect almond shape, and even from here Harriet could see they were a bright blue. She wore a shiny, green, satin floor-length dress, as sleek and flowing as her hair.

Harriet looked around the rest of the stage. There were instruments there, including a drum-set with “The Weird Sisters” stamped on it, but there weren’t any accompanists that she could see to play any of them.

“We’re up,” Fred whispered in Harriet’s ear and he rose, pulling out her chair for her so she could stand.

Next to them, Cedric and Cho, Fleur and Davies, Kazu and Alee all rose. As they started towards the dance floor, Harriet looked back at Aello and Krum. They were sitting looking stubborn as they watched the other champions, both with their arms crossed. Then, without warning, Aello scoffed and rolled her eyes, rising and grabbing hold of one of Krum’s hands practically yanking him to his feet and pulling him to the dance floor after her. Harriet felt herself overcome with a quiet fit of the giggles.

Harriet and Fred took a spot on the dance floor. Fred held out his left hand and Harriet took it with her right, putting her left on Fred’s shoulder. Fred put his right hand on the middle of her back, holding her rather closer than she was expecting. Harriet looked up at Fred and he gave her an encouraging smile.

“Hello to you all,” the girl on stage said. “Mah name eez Senna. I apolojize, my Eengleesh iz no so good.”

There was a quiet wave of polite applause. Senna smiled radiantly, giving her hair a little toss. Harriet thought, trying to place the accent. She thought she’d heard it before, but she just couldn’t quite place it. Was it French? No, not quite.

“Thee first song is an old favoureet of mine,” Senna continued. “Eet is called ‘Plaisir d’Amour.’”

Without any accompaniment, Senna began to sing. Harriet didn’t understand any of the words, but as if Senna’s voice itself was an enchantment, the pairs all began to dance. The sound of Senna’s voice washed over Harriet’s mind as she and Fred slowly danced around the floor.

As they moved, Harriet recognized the odd sensation that had come over her as they danced. He felt very similar to how she’d felt watching the Veela dance at the World Cup. She looked up at Senna, pondering her. Was Senna a part Veela, like Fleur was? Somehow, Harriet didn’t think so. The sensation was similar, and yet different. She didn’t feel compelled to be brave, or do something daring. Instead, she just felt an unshakable sense of contentment, and an overwhelming desire to dance.

She looked up at Fred who was smiling dreamily too, his eyes glossed over a bit, as though he too was entranced. Harriet wondered what this meant about Senna, but somehow, she decided she really didn’t care all that much and just kept dancing.

The song ended and Harriet felt as though the spell had been lifted. Again, the sensation did not feel the same as it had with the Veela. She felt rested and warm, as if waking from a light nap. Now, the rest of the room came out onto the floor to join them. As soon as the floor was full, Senna began to sing again, this time in English.

 

_Someday, when I’m awfully low_

_When the world is cold_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight_

 

“Heh, she can say that again,” Fred said.

“Hmm?” Harriet asked, returning her attention to Fred. She had been getting lost in the sound and sensation of Senna’s voice again.

“Nothing,” Fred replied, just smiling at her.

Harriet studied him more as they danced to the new song. There was a look on Fred’s face she’d never seen before. It was kinder, and gentler than she remembered. It was a very good look on him.

Smiling contentedly, Harriet looked around at the other dancers. Professor Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime, who was so tall compared to him that the tip of his hat barely came to her chin. Nearby, Professor Moody was dancing with Professor Sinistra. She didn’t seem quite her usual graceful self. Harriet wondered if it was because she was paying more attention to avoiding Professor Moody’s clawed wooden foot than to dancing.

Harriet felt a jolt of happiness as they passed Basheera and Neville who were also dancing. However, something about their dancing seemed wrong. They were barely moving, and Basheera was keeping her body very stiff and rigid. Neville didn’t seem to care. He was grinning ear to ear. Basheera gave Harriet a sheepish little smile before they were lost from sight in the dancing crowd.

Harriet saw Krum and Aello again. To her surprise, both of them were still dancing. She was even more surprised to see that despite Aello’s apparent determination to avoid being perceived as anything remotely ‘girly,’ she appeared to be quite a graceful dancer. Krum looked just as surprised about it as Harriet felt, but he didn’t seem as though he was going to stop anytime soon.

Marcus and Hermione moved past now. Both were very rosy cheeked and neither noticed Harriet and Fred passing. Just then, Harriet felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and looked around to see Daniel smiling down at her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Daniel chuckled. “Well, maybe a little. Just seeing how you kids are doing?”

“Excellent, Mr Dusk,” Fred said, excessively formally.

Daniel smiled at him. “Excellent. Glad to see the suit came out so well.”

“It did,” Fred said finally smiling.

Daniel chuckled and looked around. “Now, if I was a beautiful, blond Astronomy professor, where do you think I’d be?” Daniel asked.

“Um, I think I saw her dancing with Professor Moody,” Harriet replied.

“Ah, oh dear. I suppose I better go do the heroic thing and save her, don’t you think?” Daniel smiled, giving Harriet’s shoulder a light squeeze and heading off into the crowd. “Can’t let the old dog have all the fun, can I?”

Harriet laughed and Daniel winked as he headed off. She looked back at Fred who was watching Daniel leaving. Harriet raised an eyebrow.

“Fred… are you afraid of Daniel?”

Fred started and looked down at her. “What? Me? Afraid? Never!” he said, fumbling to get back his usual air of bravado. “It’s just… he used to work with Moody, right? Like he was there in the thick of it, fighting dark forces. He’s a hero. I mean I shirk authority more than anyone but not the kinda prat who wouldn’t recognize he’s not a bloke to mess with.”

Harriet smiled and they resumed dancing. She kept looking for her friends as they did. Kieran and Scott waved at her from where they sat at one of the tables. They were chatting with Percy, and neither of them looked very pleased about it. She didn’t see Dora anywhere, or Ronnie. She wondered if Ronnie had decided to dance with Susan Bones after all. They passed Daniel and Professor Sinistra a couple of times. They weren’t dancing so much as swaying with the music, talking quietly.

Another pair caught Harriet’s eye. Looking closer, Harriet recognized them as Dora’s friend Krystelle Gandy and the dancer Portia Figg, from Rathlin. So Rathlin students could come then? She looked around more, suddenly wondering if Finn was here too. She looked up at Fred and couldn’t help but wonder whether she was excited at the prospect of Finn being here, or worried about it.

 _It’s just a dance,_ Harriet told herself over and over again as she looked up at Fred’s smiling face. _It’s just a dance, nothing more. We’re not dating, I’m not with anybody, I can think whatever I want about whoever I—_

At that moment, Senna stopped singing and gave a little bow to the dancers. Harriet looked around in surprise realizing that time had passed so quickly. She joined in with the applause as Senna turned and strode off the stage. Harriet again wondered if, like Fleur, Senna was perhaps part Veela. She didn’t float like Veela did, but there was a definite grace to her movements.

As she stepped off the stage, Harriet noted something else odd. Senna was walking on her toes, yet not only was she not wearing heels, she wasn’t wearing shoes at all. Harriet furrowed her brow, pondering that and wondering if it meant anything, or she was thinking about it too hard.

Many voices, particularly boys, groaned in disapproval as Senna left the stage. Again, Harriet remembered how the crowd at the World Cup had been so unhappy when the Veela left the pitch after their first dance. Senna however paid them no mind as she disappeared into the door where all the champions had been briefed the night of the Goblet of Fire.

“Yep, typically Senna performance.”

Harriet looked around quickly and felt her heart skip as she took in the smiling face of Finn.

“Pops in, sings something, everyone goes ga-ga, and she vanishes.”

“What?” Fred asked, turning around and his eyes narrowing as he took in Finn. “Oh, it’s you.”

Finn, perhaps prepared now for Fred’s attitude, didn’t look taken aback at Fred’s curt words.

“Yeah, me,” Finn replied simply and held out a hand. “Look I think we got off on the very wrong foot last time.”

Fred looked down at the hand and to Harriet’s surprise, he actually took it.

“Didn’t mean tah cause a fuss. Yeh seem like a chill bloke from what Harriet tells me.”

Harriet blushed, and Fred raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, told me all about you wantin’ to make a joke shop there?” Finn asked.

“I-uh, yeah,” Fred said. “My brother and I are trying to set one up.”

“Damn cool, that,” Finn said. “Ya ever want someone ta write or sing yer jingle for yeh, just let me know. Me brother, Colm, is the radio jockey fer Rathlin’s wireless station, could have him put in a word for yeh when you get started?”

“Uh, thanks,” Fred said, clearly taken aback.

“So, who did you come with?” Harriet asked, changing the subject. She couldn’t help the odd feeling that came over her stomach as she asked the question.

“Kinda-sorta came with Holly,” Finn replied. “Seemed like it’d be a good do so I decided to come along. Neither of us had partners and she still can’t really dance anyway. Plus, it was another chance to see Hogwarts, how was I gonna pass it up? But I did share a few dances. Nice Beauxbatons lass named Angelique who was all too eager to tell me everything she thought about the Beauxbatons champion. Long story short, she’s not a fan. Another with a Ravenclaw girl named Layla who seemed rather nice. Last with another Beauxbatons lass named Camille who said she’s met you before.”

“Camille’s here?” Harriet asked.

“Uh, I guess?” Finn shrugged. “Said one of your friends was her cousin.”

Harriet felt her stomach knot a bit more. Fortunately, further conversation was interrupted when the Weird Sisters finally took the stage. Contrary to what Harriet had expected, none of them were witches. They all wore thick black robes that were torn here and there, with long, thick shaggy hair and beards.

“So, that Senna girl,” Harriet asked Finn. “Is she part-Veela?”

“That’s where I felt that before,” Fred said. “I knew it felt familiar!”

“Part what-a?” Finn asked.

“Veela,” Harriet said. “They’re like… magical women who entrance people when they dance.”

Finn shrugged. “Search me. No one seems to know anything about her. I’m not even entirely sure she’s a student. I’ve never seen her in a class. She just shows up for concerts, blows everyone away, and no one ever sees her again until the next one. Never seen her dance either, to be true.”

At that moment, the Weird Sisters began to play. Finn gave a snort of disgust.

“Ugh, can’t stand this modern shite. Can’t understand a single lyric, and can’t dance to it. Well, I won’t keep yeh.”

Finn walked off into the crowd.

“Hey, how about some drinks?” Fred offered. “He’s right, can’t dance to this.”

“Yes, please,” Harriet said, suddenly realizing just how winded she was from the dancing. “Did we really dance that entire time?”

“Hah,” Fred laughed. “Yeah, yeah we did.”

“My feet are killing me,” Harriet groaned. “Is there really three more hours?”

“That bad?” Fred asked.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “No, just think my feet will fall off first.”

They made their way towards the drinks table. They took some butterbeers and were just about to sit down when George stepped up to Fred, taking his arm and giving him a significant look.

“Fred, take a look,” George said, nodding his head back to the dance floor.

Harriet wasn’t sure who they referring to and looked back at the twins in confusion.

“Uh, I’ll be back in a bit,” Fred said, his face set with determination as he and George (who paused long enough to give Erica a soft peck on the lips) started off towards the dance floor.

As Harriet watched, both of the twins began following Ludo Bagman, who was just finishing a dance with Professor McGonagall. Next to Harriet, Erica sighed shaking her head.

“They’ll never learn,” she said miserably.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

Erica looked at Harriet, clearly debating whether to tell her or not.

“You know that guy Bagman who’s been judging the tournament?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, over the summer, Fred and George made a bet with him.”

“I remember!” Harriet said. “They bet all their savings with him that Krum would get the Snitch, but Ireland would still win.”

“Yeah, well… apparently he’s not exactly a man of his word… he gave them money, but it was Leprechaun gold, so of course it vanished. Anyway, now they’re trying to get their real money back from him and he’s proving to be a little reluctant…”

Harriet furrowed her brow trying to spot Bagman again but couldn’t see over the crowd.

“There you are!” came the excited voice of Rachel. “Isn’t this so much fun?”

Harriet smiled at Rachel as she and Jackson walked up to her and Erica.

“Hey you two, having fun?” Erica asked.

“Actually yeah,” Jackson said cheerfully. “Good band, good food, everyone’s smiling. Good times.”

“Omigosh they are so adorable!” Rachel said pointing towards the doors.

Harriet looked around and couldn’t help but giggle herself. Hagrid and Madame Maxime were now walking off together. Hagrid was talking and waving his massive hands around animatedly as Madame Maxime listened.

“It’s nice seeing Hagrid come out of his shell a lot more,” Erica said.

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. “Though… has she seen the Skrewts?”

Erica, Jackson and Rachel all laughed. They chatted more about the ball when Dora finally found them, her friend Krystelle in tow, along with a very pretty girl who Harriet did not recognize.

The girl looked around at them all, seeming a bit apprehensive. Finally, her eyes found Harriet. Harriet fought back a grimace, waiting for the inevitable gasping over her being Harriet Potter and staring at her scar.

However, it didn’t come. The girl just looked at Harriet and smiled awkwardly giving a little wave. Harriet narrowed her eyes. Did the girl know her? Harriet was sure she’d remember meeting the girl somewhere before if that were the case.

“Harriet, this is Alessa Selene,” Dora said, apparently too excited to notice. “Remember at the Hallowe’en party when Finn said he knew the real Wendy the Wandless Witch? Well, meet Wendy!”

“Hello, Harriet,” Alessa said.

“Hello,” Harriet replied giving Alessa’s hand a little shake. “So you were Wendy? A friend of mine apparently was a big fan of yours when he was a kid.”

“I know!” Dora exclaimed. “Where’s Kieran, he’s _so_ got to meet her!”

“Last I saw they were sitting somewhere over there,” Harriet said, pointing towards the table she’d seen them sitting with Percy.

“Let’s go see if they’re still there,” Dora said, grabbing Harriet’s hand and pulling her along.

Harriet did her best to keep up, trying not to trip on her heels.

“You’re really eager,” Harriet said as they snaked through the crowded room.

“I know!” Dora said. “How awesome will it be though for Kieran to meet his childhood hero?”

Harriet glanced back at Alessa. She looked far from thrilled about this. She was talking quietly with Krystelle who wore a concerned expression. Harriet remembered how upset Krystelle had been at the Yule Ball when Finn had almost let slip that Alessa was there. She wondered if Krystelle was trying to talk Alessa out of this.

Sure enough, both Kieran and Scott were still there, though now they were chatting with Neville and Basheera.

“—Father said that it was okay to dance, as long as I did not move _too_ much,” Basheera was explaining as they approached. “But I do not know if that was because of our Book, or because he did not want me giving any boys the wrong idea.”

“Maybe a bit of both?” Scott suggested thoughtfully.

“Hey you lot,” Kieran said as they approached. “Basheera was just telling us about her father letting her come to the dance.”

“That’s great! I’m so glad it worked out for you,” Harriet said giving Basheera a hug.

“Kieran!” Dora said, still apparently beside herself with excitement. “I’ve got such a huge surprise for you.”

“Yes?” Kieran asked.

Alessa stepped forward. Now that she looked at the girl properly, Harriet noted that she was very pretty indeed, and yet something about her seemed familiar, though Harriet was sure she had never seen the girl before.

Dora turned to make the introduction. “Kieran, meet Alessa Selene.”

Kieran smiled politely, though clearly the name meant nothing to him as he grunted to his feet.

“Charmed,” Kieran said.

Alessa was looking at Kieran’s leg with concern. “It’s still hurting you?”

Kieran raised an eyebrow, looking down at his leg then back in confusion.

“I-I mean,” Alessa stammered. “Krystelle told me about you,” she finished quickly.

She glanced at Krystelle who gave Alessa a frustrated look before smiling at Kieran.

“I heard about it from Dora,” Krystelle said.

“I see,” Kieran said. “Um… well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Alessa replied.

Dora grinned. “So, Kieran… about liking Wendy as a kid…”

“Wh-what?” Kieran spluttered.

Dora’s grin remained, though it was not her usual grin. She looked the most genuinely excited that Harriet had ever seen her.

“Well, Merry Christmas,” she said. “Meet Wendy!”

Kieran’s eyes went wide. Alessa however went as red as Dora’s dress, yes she still stepped forward, holding out a hand to Kieran.

“It’s… it’s very nice to meet a fan,” Alessa said forcing a smile onto her face.

Kieran took her hand. He still was looking at with an odd expression, as though he was trying his hardest to not look as confused and taken aback as he felt.

“Well um, maybe you two would like to talk?” Dora suggested. “Get to know each other more…?”

“Um sure,” Kieran said. “Why-uh… why not?”

“Okay,” Alessa said. “Maybe umm… somewhere quieter? Maybe the grotto?”

“Okay,” Kieran agreed, though he kept giving Alessa a searching look.

Harriet and the rest watched in confusion as Alessa and Kieran moved off together.

“Okay, that… didn’t go as I planned,” Dora said, her voice full of disappointment.

Krystelle sighed. “I told you it wouldn’t…”

“He’s just such a nice guy,” Dora said. “And I felt bad he wasn’t going with anybody… just wanted to do something nice for him.”

Krystelle hugged Dora around the shoulder. Harriet grimaced, looking around for Fred. He still wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Had he been actually following Bagman? If so, what for? Just then, the music stopped and the lead singer of the Weird Sisters cleared his throat.

“Everyone having a good time?”

The crowd gave a cheer of assent.

“Fantastic!” the singer said. “We’re about halfway through the festivities now, we figure it’s time for us to introduce tonight’s _mystery guest_!”

There was excited murmuring at this. The singer grinned wider.

“Could we please have one Miss Rachel Kane step forward please?”

There was a moment’s pause and Rachel slowly stepped out onto the dance floor, looking up at the singer with confusion. The shaggy man grinned wider.

“Rachel Kane, we have a very special surprise just for you, tonight. Coming all the way from the old U.S. of A., newly promoted, Captain Aaron Kane!”

Rachel’s jaw fell open at once. Onto the stage stepped a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. He was wearing a full military dress uniform: a dark navy jacket with golden epaulettes, red trim, bright golden buttons, a high, buttoned collar, white trousers with a red piping down the sides and black shoes. Under one arm was a silver, plumed helmet with chin strap and a curved sword in a scabbard. He had a winged patch on his right breast, and a series of medals on the other.

Rachel gave out a shriek of delight and ran for the stage. The man smiled and jumped off the stage onto the dance floor, just in time to catch Rachel up in his arms, lifting her in the air and spinning her around before pulling her into a tight embrace. The entire crowd broke into cheers and Harriet felt her eyes getting more than a little watery as she watched and applauded with the rest.

Harriet smiled more hurrying over along with the other Gryffindors in attendance. Aaron and Rachel were talking rapidly as Harriet reached them.

“—how’s Blaine?” Rachel was asking. “Haven’t heard from him in ages?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Aaron said. “He’s probably busy and he’s a bit farther away than usual. He’s been transferred to a post out in California.”

“California, what’s he doing there?” Rachel asked.

“Where he was assigned,” Aaron replied. “Subject to the terms of the service, you’re sent where you’re needed. I’m sure he’ll have a letter coming soon for Christmas.”

Rachel grinned and turned around to look at all rest who’d come forward.

“Aaron, these are all my friends!” Rachel explained, and started making introductions.

Harriet smiled politely as she was introduced. True to form, Aaron gave the customary jump of surprise and looked at Harriet’s scar, but somehow Harriet didn’t mind. She was too happy for Rachel to care much at the moment as she looked up into Aaron’s face, studying him more closely.

Aaron was much taller than she’d expected, given how short Rachel was. His head was clean shaven, and she noted that the skin around his eyes was much more tan than the rest of his face. He did look very similar to Rachel, however. They had the same nose, eyes, and cheekbones.

“Wicked uniform,” Dean Thomas said as Rachel introduced him. “What unit are you in?”

“Well, just got promoted to Captain, and gave me my own command, Able Company, of the 350th Aethonan Cavalry.”

“Cool!” Seamus Finnigan chimed in.

“And Aaron,” Rachel said, blushing and smiling widely. “This is my date tonight, Jackson Lee.”

Aaron smiled turning to look at Jackson when his face suddenly went very pale and his eyes opened widely. Jackson blinked in confusion when Aaron’s face broke into a wide grin. In fact, he looked positively overjoyed.

“You! Oh Merlin, boy, it’s you! You made it after all!” Aaron said, grabbing Jackson hard by the shoulders and shaking him.

“I—wh-a-uht?” Jackson asked, his voice shaking a little as Aaron shook him.

Aaron’s face fell a bit. He suddenly looked worried, and he let go of Jackson’s shoulders.

“Oh jeez, you don’t remember, well you wouldn’t,” Aaron said.

“Aaron…?” Rachel asked, cautiously. “What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

Aaron continued to look down at Jackson with worry as Professor Dumbledore approached them.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance properly, Captain,” Professor Dumbledore said, holding out a hand.

“Oh, likewise,” Aaron said, finally taking his eyes off Jackson and shaking Professor Dumbledore’s hand.

Professor Dumbledore glanced down at Jackson and back at Aaron. Aaron was looking back at Jackson again. Jackson was looking back, his expression equally confused, and now he was starting to rub his temple.

“Well, I shall not take up any more time between you and your sister,” Professor Dumbledore said. “But if you would like to join me in my office after the Ball, I should be most interested in speaking with you more privately.”

Professor Dumbledore’s tone remained light, but Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Professor Dumbledore was less making a suggestion and more insisting that Aaron speak with him.

“Y-yes, thank you Headmaster, that would be great,” Aaron said.

“How about we play a special number for the happy family reunion to dance to,” the lead singer said again, spurring another round of applause.

“What was that about?” Hermione asked Jackson as they moved off the dance floor.

“I… I don’t know,” Jackson said, still pressing a hand to his temple and squinting his eyes. “But I’m getting a headache… kinda dizzy…”

“Sounds like you need some air, mate,” Marcus said. “Let’s get you a butterbeer and have a seat outside for a bit?”

“Yeah, yeah that’d be good,” Jackson said.

“Well, that was strange,” Tori said as Marcus and Jackson moved off towards the doors.

“Yeah, turning out to be kind of a weird night,” Harriet said looking around. “Has anyone seen Fred?”

“Not for a while,” Hermione said.

“Oooo, and who is zis Fred?” Hermione’s cousin Camille asked, grinning at Harriet knowingly.

Harriet blushed. “Hey Camille, Fred’s my—um, dance partner,” Harriet said.

“You mean date,” Camille corrected.

“N-no, just, dance partner,” Harriet replied.

Camille didn’t look convinced; her eyes still twinkling with mischief. “That’s not what it looked like when you were dancing at the start.”

Camille winked and Harriet looked away, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Camille laughed. “I am just teasing,” she said. “Besides zere are a lot of boys who think very highly of you I have seen.”

“Oh?” Harriet asked looking back around.

“Oui, I danced with one who said he met you at Halloween. A muggle boy at that. Quite an excellent dancer I must say.”

“Oh yeah, Finn said you two danced,” Harriet said.

“Yes, he says he is rather sweet on you, but he is not sure of himself in that respect.”

“Why?” Harriet asked.

“Well, you live so far away from each other, you would never really get the chance to see each other much, non?”

“That’s… true,” Harriet admitted, feeling as though her insides had slipped down into her feet.

“I also could not ‘elp but overhear many boys expressing jealousy towards your dashing beau as you danced at the start, either.”

Harriet looked around awkwardly. Boys were still angry about that? She’d thought they’d have given that up by now.

Harriet felt a quick sense of relief as Fred came walking back up to her.

“Sorry that took so long,” Fred said apologetically.

His face was red and he looked tense, but as he reached them, his smile began returning and his face returned to its normal colour.

“Everything alright?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Fred said, a little too quickly.

Harriet hooked an arm in his and started walking him towards the door.

“Maybe some fresh air?” she suggested.

Fred smiled looking a little relieved. “Yeah, that would be nice…”

They kept walking and Harriet spoke up. “So, Erica told me…”

“What?” Fred asked.

“About the money and Bagman.”

Fred went red again and grumbled under his breath.

“Just… want to say sorry that happened,” Harriet said.

Fred sighed. “Thanks,” he said. “Just you think you know someone, eh? Skinflint was one of my heroes as a kid. Part of the reason George and I became beaters in the first place.”

Harriet nodded and gave Fred’s arm a sympathetic squeeze.

Fred paused, looking at the door. “What’s that?”

Harriet looked too. She saw Professor McGonagall, who was in the middle of telling off a redheaded girl in a dress.

“Oh bullocks,” Fred exclaimed.

Harriet felt her heart sink. The girl was Ginny. She and Fred hurried over at once.

“—the rules were perfectly clear, Miss Weasley: no students under fourth year allowed without invitation by an older student.”

“But all my family is here!” Ginny argued. “Fred and George and even Percy is here!”

“That’s no excuse, Miss Weasley. This will be a detention upon the start of term and—”

“Oh come on, Professor,” Fred said. “Don’t be mad at her, it’s my fault.”

“What?” Professor McGonagall said turning on Fred.

“Yeah, don’t punish her, I bought—”

“Oh there you are!”

At that moment, Finn appeared from out of the crowd, two butterbeers in his hands, holding one out to Ginny. Harriet and the rest all looked at him with total confusion.

“Was looking everywhere for you,” Finn said to Ginny, holding out one of the butterbeers to her.

Ginny slowly took it, slowly looking back up at Finn with wide eyes.

“Mister Negus, are you saying that you invited Miss Weasley to the Ball?”

“Well yes, I suppose I am, Professor,” Finn said politely.

“And when exactly did you do so from Rathlin?”

Finn paused for a moment. Harriet bit her lip looking up at him. Finn clearly realized that he was caught, but at once the smile returned to his face.

“Well, I didn’t,” Finn admitted.

Harriet raised her eyebrows. What was he playing at now?

“And when did you invite her?” Professor McGonagall asked, crossing her arms in further disapproval. Clearly she wasn’t pleased, but Harriet supposed as Finn wasn’t even a Hogwarts student, there was nothing she could really do about him trying to trick her.

“Well, I guess I did right now,” Finn said cheerfully turning back to Ginny. “Would you care to attend the Ball with me?”

Finn bowed and held out a hand to Ginny. Ginny went as red as her hair and took it. Harriet just barely suppressed a laugh.

“O-okay,” she said.

“Now just a minute, Mister Negus, that is now how this works!” Professor McGonagall said huffily.

“Well, there never was a limit given on when invitations had to be in, was there?” Fred said, cottoning on. “Can’t punish them for that, can we?”

Professor McGonagall glowered, clearly trying to think of how this violated the rules. Finally, it seemed as though she couldn’t find any way to justifiably close the loophole.

“…Very well, Miss Weasley, you may remain. But as you still came _before_ being properly invited to the Ball, that will still be a detention at the start of term.”

“Okay, Professor!” Ginny said, clearly too happy to care for the moment.

Finn gave Harriet and Fred a big wink.

“Well, would you like a dance?” Finn asked Ginny.

“Yes, please,” Ginny said eagerly.

Finn smiled and lead Ginny off to the dance floor. Ginny looked back at them, grinning ear to ear.

Fred laughed shaking his head. “Okay, I did misjudge him. That was pretty cool.”

Fred paused and his face fell a bit. “Wait… now that dolt’s dancing with my sister. I really should not be okay with this.”

Harriet elbowed him.

“Ow,” he yelped

“It’s fine, Fred,” Harriet said. “He was just doing her a favour. I mean okay you both have red-hair but how was he supposed to know Ginny’s your sister if he’s never seen her before?”

“Yeah…” Fred said unconvinced. “It’s just the principle of the thing.”

Harriet now gave Fred a shrewd look. “So how exactly was this _your_ fault?” she asked.

Fred gave his awkward look, the one that looked so much like his father as he rubbed the back of his head. “Well, George and I might have maybe kinda, sorta, bought the dress for her…”

Harriet laughed. “You bought the dress for her?” she asked. “You mean you told her to come?”

“Yeah, we felt bad she wouldn’t get to come, so we just told her to sneak in after everything starts,” Fred explained. “We figured McGonagall wouldn’t notice.”

“Isn’t that like asking Hagrid not to love giant man-eating monsters?”

Fred laughed. They started towards the doors once more when Marcus came hurrying back in. He looked around frantically and jumped, noticing Harriet standing right next to him.

“Harriet!” Marcus said, trying to catch his breath. “Have you seen Hermione? Have to talk to her. Everything’s freaking out!”

“Everything’s freaking out?” Harriet repeated. “What happened?”

“Kieran: hurt his leg. Hagrid: mum problems. Jackson: passed out.”

“Kieran hurt his leg? What happened?”

“Don’t know,” Marcus said. “Something to do with some girl he was talking to. She ran away.”

“Go find Hermione,” Harriet said. “Where’s Kieran.”

“Entrance Hall,” Marcus replied and hurried off at once.

“I’ll be right back,” Harriet told Fred before she bustled into the Entrance Hall.

She saw Kieran sitting on a bench, wincing and holding his knee. There was a man there kneeling in front of him, studying his knee closely. The right leg of Kieran’s slacks was pulled up. Harriet grimaced as she saw that his knee was a sickly, brownish yellow.

“Tough to fix, this,” the man said as Harriet reached them. On closer inspection, she recognized the man to be Dr Watkins, Professor Howe’s best friend and deputy headmaster at Rathlin.

“It’ll go away,” Kieran said. “It always does.”

“Not entirely,” Dr Watkins said and held up his own cane for Kieran to see. “I speak from experience on old wounds.”

Kieran looked at it, then looked at Dr Watkins with wide eyes. Dr Watkins gave him a forced smile before returning his attention to Kieran’s knee.

“Since this is a cursed wound, it won’t take a usual ointment to heal. The best I can give you is a topical treatment to dull the pain. Should last about twenty-four hours. Until then I want you off the leg.”

“What happened?” Harriet asked.

Kieran jumped, noticing she was there and suddenly looking distinctly ashamed.

“It… it was just a misunderstanding…”

“Did Alessa do that?” Harriet asked, feeling her sense of anger starting to bubble to the surface.

_Who is this girl? First she acts weird about meeting a long-time fan and the nicest person I know, then she hurts his leg like this?_

“No, no,” Kieran said quickly. “At least, she didn’t mean to.”

“She didn’t mean to?” Harriet asked, crossing her arms. “What does that mean?”

“We just… we had a disagreement, okay?” Kieran said, almost snapping.

Harriet lowered her arms. Kieran had never spoken to her like that before. She felt as though he’d slapped her.

Kieran’s stern look vanished at once.

“Harriet… I’m… I’m sorry,” Kieran said. “It’s not like that… it’s not—ow—bad, just…”

Kieran gave Dr Watkins a searching look. Dr Watkins nodded and stood, wincing in pain and propping himself up on his cane as he did so.

“Alright, Mr O’Brien,” Dr Watkins said. “I’ll go check on the boy who passed out. He should have reached your hospital wing by now. I will be back to check on you as fast as I can. Please do not leave this spot.”

“Don’t have to worry about that, Doctor,” Kieran said, wincing.

Dr Watkins gave him another curt nod before heading off to the Hospital Wing. Kieran watched him go before looking back at Harriet and sighing, patting the bench next to him.

Harriet hesitated, still feeling taken aback at Kieran’s tone, but she finally sat.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Harriet asked. “What’s so big you had to yell at me?”

“I didn’t yell,” Kieran grumbled, wincing again. “Alessa… she’s… Harriet…”

Kieran sighed burying his face in his hands. Harriet couldn’t remember ever seeing him this upset before.

“Alessa’s not who she says she is.”

“She’s not Wendy?” Harriet asked. “Why would she lie about—”

“No!” Kieran interrupted. “She is Wendy, but she’s not Alessa. And that’s all I can say about it.”

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

“Because she asked me not to.”

Harriet felt her eyebrows knot together very closely.

“What are you talking about? Kieran, what’s going on?”

“Well… when I was first looking at her… when I was first introduced. There was something strange… something looked wrong. And not just that she didn’t look anything like Wendy. Well… we got into the grotto and sat and were talking and well… a fairy passed overhead, and in its light… I saw… well, her real face.”

“Her real face?” Harriet asked.

“I guess that’s how you’d say it. She’s disguised. She’s not Alessa; Alessa _is_ her disguise. But she’s really Wendy, and she made me promise not to tell anyone who she really is.”

“Why not?” Harriet blinked, trying to make sense of what Kieran had just said.

“I don’t know! She wouldn’t say! I tried to get her to explain why she wanted to keep it a secret, but she wouldn’t. Then I guess she panicked and tried to run away. She bumped my shillelagh with her foot as she went and I fell. She was in such a hurry I don’t think she even realized what she’d done, or maybe she did and it made her panic even more. Anyway, she was gone and I was left trying to get someone’s attention to help me back up. They finally found me when Jackson collapsed.”

“She just left you there?” Harriet asked, aghast.

“She didn’t know, Harriet!” Kieran said. “She was scared and panicked. I don’t know why but something has her terrified of…” Kieran broke off, as if catching himself before saying too much. “Of anyone finding out who she really is.”

Harriet felt her head swimming in confusion. Why was Kieran acting this way? Why was he being so protective of a girl he’d just met? A girl who’d hurt him?

“Why are you keeping this promise?” Harriet asked. “What makes her so special?”

“It’s not her,” Kieran admitted. “It’s me.”

“You?”

Kieran gave Harriet a sympathetic look. “Harriet… you know me. I keep everyone’s secrets. I’ve always kept the secret you told me last year. If I were to give up her secret to you now, how could you trust me with keeping that one?”

Harriet puzzled trying to see through the logic of that statement. It seemed counter-intuitive, yet in a twisted way she guessed he had a point.

Harriet sighed leaning back against the wall. Kieran looked at her concerned.

“You okay?” he asked.

Harriet shrugged.

“It’s been a weird night… I mean, I’m having lots of fun, but things keep happening. Like, all the things that should be happy, aren’t really. Like ‘wow, you get to meet you childhood idol, look how that turned out?’ Rachel gets to see her brother for the first time in years and her date passes out. And what was Marcus saying about Hagrid?”

“While he was helping Jackson get some air he overheard Hagrid talking to Madame Maxime… apparently he told her the truth that he’s a half-giant and confronted her about being one too. She stormed off and right after that was when Jackson just keeled over.”

Harriet groaned, then paused. “Wait, what’s the problem with Hagrid being half-giant?”

Kieran gave another sigh. “Nothing… to those of us that know him. But someone else might have overheard, and well… people really don’t trust giants of any kind.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’re pretty brutal,” Kieran explained. “Even within their own kind. Kill or be killed, and all that. Really territorial. Anyway, to make matters worse, in the last war, most of them sided with You-Know-Who. He promised he’d give them free reign once all the Muggles were gone.”

“That’s horrible,” Harriet said.

“Yeah,” Kieran agreed. “So, most folks… really not big fans of giants.”

“But Hagrid wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Harriet declared, starting to feel her anger rising once more.

“Of course not,” Kieran said. “But not everyone knows him like us.”

Harriet sighed. “This really isn’t how I imagined tonight going at all.”

Kieran laughed darkly.

“What?”

“Harriet, does _anything_ we do go as planned?”

In spite of herself and all that had been happening, Harriet laughed. There was a light clicking sound and they looked to see Dr Watkins returning.

“Ah, still here I see, jolly good,” Dr Watkins said. “Well, think you can make it to the hospital wing now?”

“I think so, Doctor,” Kieran said, giving his knee a tiny flex. “I can move it a bit more now, thanks.”

“Excellent. Well, let’s get you up there. Miss Potter, lovely to meet you again.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harriet said as she and Dr Watkins helped Kieran to his feet.

Kieran leaned heavily on his walking stick, putting an arm around Dr Watkins shoulder for extra support as the two moved off towards the hospital wing.

Harriet meanwhile remained sitting on the bench, just watching them go. She knew she should return to Fred, but somehow she felt like just taking a moment to herself to collect her feelings. There were other couples sitting and talking around the Entrance Hall. By the way so many were leaning in close, talking in hushed whispers, Harriet took it that most of them were proper couples.

Harriet’s eyes fell upon another couple. She tilted her head as she recognized them. One Harriet recognized as one of the Americans who’d ended up in Ravenclaw. She couldn’t remember her name, was it Ashley? Ainsley? It was something like that. She was sitting and talking with someone else who Harriet recognized, and this name she did know.

It was Holly Cambridge, the American Muggle-born footballer who’d nearly been killed when Solomon Kinney blew up the football stadium she was playing in the night before the start of Harriet’s second year. The same year the war had started in America that meant Rachel and everyone else had to come here to Hogwarts. The summer all of them had lost their homes and families.

She smiled a little as she watched the two talking. Holly was gesturing around the hall, talking excitedly as the Ravenclaw girl listened, smiling softly. Just then, Harriet felt a hint of jealousy welling up inside her. Not just because she didn’t really seem to have anyone, but because she couldn’t be as open with who she truly was. They only person to date she’d ever told her secret was Kieran, but she had no idea how she could ever truly bridge the gap with him between thinking of him as a brother, and dating.

A flash of red caught Harriet’s eye and she looked around. Dora was walking towards her, carrying her and Harriet’s shawls and scanning the hall as she walked towards Harriet.

“I heard about what happened to Kieran,” she said anxiously. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Harriet said. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Ronnie’s finally dancing with Susan Bones. Hermione and Marcus are having a pow-wow with Scott, not sure what about, but they mentioned Hagrid a couple times.”

“Want to sit?”

“No…” Dora said. “Actually I wondered if you wanted to go for a little walk? Get some air?”

“Yeah, that might be nice,” Harriet said, getting up.

Dora handed Harriet her shawl and they both put them on, walking out the doors into the cold. As they did, they saw Tori Hoffman and Chris Jerome walking towards them, both a bit giggly and red faced.

“Hello, Harriet,” Tori said. “Chris and I were just—hehehe—taking a walk.”

“Wanna keep an eye out,” Chris Jerome added. “Snape’s on the prowl.”

“On the prowl?” Dora asked.

“Yeah, looking for snoggers in bushes,” Chris replied. “Him and Professor Ilves.”

“Professor Ilves?” Harriet asked. “The Durmstrang headmistress?”

“Yeah,” Tori said. “Well, I don’t think she was. She was trying to talk to him about something. Something about his arm. She distracted him just long enough that Chris and I could sneak away before he found us.”

“That’s weird,” Dora said. “Thanks for the heads up, I guess.”

Tori giggled more as she and Chris hurried into the school again. Dora shook her head watching them go.

“Wonder what that was about with Professor Snape’s arm?” Harriet asked.

Dora gave Harriet an odd look.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“You,” Dora said, smiling now. “Just you’re the only person in the school who calls him ‘Professor Snape,’ everyone else just calls him Snape. Plus, he like ignores your existence.”

Harriet shrugged. “Well, he is a Professor.”

“Yeah,” Dora said. “I don’t know, it’s just cute.”

Harriet blushed a little and looked up at the night sky. It was overcast, so no stars could be seen. Instead, it was snowing lightly; big, fluffy flakes that drifted down lazily. Dora smiled looking up at them.

“You know what this reminds me of?” she said as they strode along the rosebushes.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“Our very first year, over the Christmas holidays when you and Ronnie were out flying…”

“Oh yeah,” Harriet smiled, laughing, I’d forgotten about that.

Dora smiled awkwardly. “Want to know something funny?”

“What?”

Dora didn’t respond right away. She stopped walking, but still kept watching the falling snow.

“When I first got to Hogwarts… I hated you.”

Harriet choked a bit. “What?”

Dora laughed. “I know, it was stupid. It wasn’t the whole stupid Slytherin thing…”

“Then what?” Harriet asked.

“I was jealous…”

“Jealous?” Harriet repeated. “Of me?”

“Yeah,” Dora replied. “Told you, it was stupid. I was a whiny little brat. I wanted to be best at everything, but there you were… Harriet Potter… most famous witch in the world. Every professor loved you but Snape. You got on the Quidditch team when I didn’t have a dream of it. Still don’t, probably.”

Harriet didn’t know what to say. She just kept looking at Dora, trying to decide how to feel about the conversation.

“Then I ran into you that night…” Dora continued. “At first I was so mad because we almost got caught… but then I thought about it more and realized… it was an adventure. And that was pretty cool.”

Dora turned and smiled at Harriet now. There were fluffy flakes of snow on Dora’s eyebrows and eyelashes. Harriet supposed on anyone else they would look silly, but somehow as they framed Dora’s almond shaped, blue eyes, they seemed to twinkle and compliment instead.

“Then… came the end of the year…”

Harriet felt her stomach clench. She knew where this was going. It was something she’d never truly talked to Dora about; the death of her ancestor, Nicolas Flamel.

“I never really thought of it at the time… when we started going after the Stone. I just… I guess I just thought of it as another adventure, you know?”

Dora sniffed. Harriet couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, or not.

“And then Mom and Dad came to school, and they told me what Gram and Gramp had decided to do… and that we had to go see them before the end…”

Dora sniffed again. “And… once again I hated you… but then I talked with Gram more and she explained it all to me. You know… I mean I guess I was always just a kid but I’d never really grasped just how long she and Gramp had been around. And she explained what You-Know-Who getting the Stone would have meant, and how proud of me they were for helping you. And I thought about it and it just like… it struck me what kind of person you really are.”

Dora shivered and hugged her shawl tighter. “You make people want to do great things, Harriet.”

Harriet blushed brightly. The cold of the snowflakes touching her cheeks felt like little pin-pricks now. She wiped them off her cheeks, and when she looked up she realized Dora was standing a lot closer to her now.

Harriet didn’t feel surprised, somehow. She didn’t jump, instead just looked back into Dora’s eyes. Despite the dim lights from the fairies dancing around them, Dora’s blue eyes still seemed bright. Harriet found herself suddenly struck by just how symmetrical Dora’s face was. Her eyes were both the exact same shape and height, both the same distance from her straight, button nose. Her hair framed her heart-shaped face, now sparkling itself from the snow that was covering her hair.

Dora let go of her shawl, slowly taking Harriet’s hands in hers. Harriet let her, looking down at her hands in Dora’s. In spite of the cold, Harriet felt how smooth and soft the skin of Dora’s hands was. It was far from an unpleasant sensation. She looked back up at Dora’s face, her eyes moving over Dora’s slender frame in the form-fitting dress. Dora was very pretty; Harriet couldn’t help but think to herself.

Dora was closer now. Very close. Was it too close?

“You know,” Harriet said. “Your… Gramp, wrote a letter to me. Just before… yeah.”

“Yeah?” Dora asked. She didn’t sound as though she was really listening.

“Yeah…” Harriet replied, remembering too well the words of the letter even after so long. “He thanked me for being nice to you and accepting you… he was worried that you’d have a hard time fitting in…”

Dora gave out a tiny giggle. “I guess I kinda did, didn’t I?”

Harriet giggled too. Before she could process anything else, Dora’s lips had connected with hers.

At first, Harriet felt her body go rigid. Tingles were moving along her now, warming her as Dora’s smooth lips pressed against hers. Harriet’s eyes went wide at the same time that Dora’s eyes slid closed. Slowly, Harriet closed her eyes too.

It was a very pleasant feeling, almost like floating. She could feel Dora’s warm breath against her cheek as they held the kiss. She felt Dora’s hands squeeze tighter on hers, pulling her closer.

Finally, the kiss broke. Harriet felt like she was still floating as she slowly opened her eyes once more. Dora was simply smiling back, her eyes still bright and twinkling.

“Um…” Harriet and Dora both jumped and looked around.

Ronnie was standing in the entrance to the rosebush corridor that Dora and Harriet had stopped in. She was looking at them both with a very blank expression.

“I was just um… Fred’s uh… looking for you,” she said.

Without another word, Ronnie turned and all but ran out of sight.

“Ronnie?” Dora called, her voice full of confusion. “Oh god, she’s going to tell Fred… he’s going to be pissed.”

Harriet grimaced. “I… I don’t think so…”

“Why not?” Dora asked.

Harriet gave Dora an exasperated look. For once in Harriet’s life, was there something she knew that Dora didn’t?

“Dora… Ronnie fancies you.”

“ _What?!_ ” Dora gasped.

“You didn’t know?” Harriet asked.

“No!” Dora said.

She turned and ran after Ronnie at once, leaving Harriet quite along in the grotto now. Harriet sighed miserably, making her way back into the school, trying to make sense of everything. She stopped as the realization struck her. That was her first kiss. She had just had her first kiss. And it was with Dora… her first real kiss and it wasn’t just with another girl, but with one of her best friends. And she’d enjoyed it.

Harriet hurried into the school faster now. As she stepped into the Entrance Hall, she didn’t see Dora or Ronnie anywhere. She looked around and saw Dean and Parvati standing by the door to the Great Hall. She hustled over to them.

“Did either of you two see Ronnie or Dora go by?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, they went up the stairs,” Dean replied.

Harriet didn’t hesitate. She was sure they were heading for Gryffindor tower. She stopped just long enough to take off her shoes so she could move faster. As she neared Gryffindor Tower, she could hear raised girls’ voices. By the sound of it, Dora had caught up with Ronnie.

“How the hell was I supposed to know you liked me if you never told me?” Harriet heard Dora asked, sounding equal parts angry and exasperated.

“I did!” Ronnie retorted. “I told you that all the time!”

“When?!”

Harriet finally reached the landing with the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Dora and Ronnie were both red in the face, shouting at each other.

“Like every time we talked!” Ronnie bellowed, tears streaming down her eyes. “I always tried to be there for you, why do you think I try and joke and tease you all the time? Why do you think I hung out with you when you were mad at Harriet this year?”

Dora seemed to disarm herself, her face falling a bit. “Wait… all those times you were teasing me… you were what, flirting?”

“Duh!” Ronnie snapped. “Isn’t that what flirting is?!”

Ronnie turned to the portrait hole. “Fairy lights!” she shouted.

The portrait swung open. Ronnie climbed through and slammed the portrait shut behind her with so much force that the Fat Lady and her friend Vi were toppled out of their seats where they’d been dozing. They protested angrily, getting back to their feet.

Dora meanwhile hadn’t moved. Instead she stood staring at the portrait hole, frozen. Harriet watched her, feeling completely lost. She didn’t know what to think, what to do, or what to say. She managed to take a step forward.

“Dora…?”

Dora didn’t respond.

“Dora…?”

Dora slowly turned around. She was looking at the floor, her hands still clenched in fists.

“I’m… I’m going to bed… Goodnight…”

Harriet could only watch as Dora slowly walked past her. She didn’t have anything to say. What was there to say? She simply stood there, watching as Dora descended the stairs, her head hung, her hands unclenching, hanging limply at her sides now, until she moved out of sight.


	24. Winter Flowers

“Very few things in life will ever reward you, or test you, as thoroughly as family.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet could scarcely think as she returned to the Great Hall. It was still quite full, despite there only being a half hour left. She didn’t see Fred anywhere.

“Oof, you look rough.”

Harriet turned. Finn and Ginny were standing by the door, looking at her. Ginny was still sporting a giddy smile.

“Yeah… well…” Harriet managed to say, “things don’t always go to plan, I guess.”

“Ahhhh, see there’s your problem,” Finn said, nodding seriously. “Like I was just sayin’ to Ginny here. Plans complicate things. Can’t live life according to a plan. Didn’t I just say that.”

“Actually, he did,” Ginny admitted.

“See, not the lyin’ kind here,” Finn said more cheerfully. “Life goes better when you just flow with it.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Harriet muttered.

Finn raised an eyebrow and gave Ginny an exasperated look.

“She just doesn’t get it,” Ginny said, shaking her head sadly.

“I _know_ ,” Finn agreed.

“Well, I’m sorry, but one of my friends hurt his leg really bad, another friend just passed out, and that’s not even the worst of it.”

“No?”

“No,” Harriet repeated. “One of my _other_ best friends just kissed me, totally out of nowhere. And to top _that_ off—”

“Faith and begora!” Finn gasped, cutting Harriet off.

Ginny snorted.

“No?” Finn asked.

“No,” Ginny replied.

“But I’m Irish!”

“No excuse. Just sounds silly.”

“Ah well, I tried.”

Harriet glowered at them both. How could they be taking this so lightly?

Finn narrowed his eyes, studying Harriet closely. “Hmmmmm, yep, I know the cure.”

“The cure?” Harriet asked, sceptically.

“Yep. Ginn? Mind if I ask Miss Potter to one of the last dances of the ev’nin’?”

To Harriet’s surprise, Ginny actually hesitated.

“Okay,” she said finally, still looking up at Finn with wide, blue eyes.

“Thanks little Belle,” Finn said and lightly touched Ginny’s chin with his curled pointer finger. “I’ll save me last dance for yeh, yeah?”

Ginny slowly nodded, her eyes still dancing. Finn smiled back, though Harriet couldn’t help but notice he looked a bit apprehensive as he gestured to the dance floor, leading Harriet on.

Harriet took a glance back at Ginny who was still looking slightly put out.

“Sure you’ll give her the last dance?” Harriet asked, trying to keep disapproval out of her voice as they began to dance.

Finn grimaced. “Well, to be true I just thought I was stepping in to help a lass out, but… I didn’t quite expect her to get so attached so fast! And blimey, those feckin’ puppy dog eyes she gives makes me feel like I just murdered her cat!”

Harriet finally felt her lips begin to move towards a smile. “Ginny’s a great kid. She’s umm…”

“Your date’s little sister,” Finn finished for her.

“She told you?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Finn managed a laugh. “I just can’t catch a break with that guy, can I?”

In spite of it all, Harriet finally laughed too.

Finn smiled more. “Sad really. Reminds me a lot of me, he does.”

“Fred?” Harriet asked. “How?”

Finn shrugged. “Well, he’s like me. He just likes to make everyone happy. I guess he’s even better about it than me there.”

“Better?”

“Well,” Finn said awkwardly. “He just seems to do it because he likes it. Me? It’s the only thing that keeps me going sometimes.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. Finn snorted dismissively.

“Nah, don’t mind me. We all got our shite in ample amounts and you’ve already had your fill tonight. But still, he’s a… he’s a good guy, Fred is.”

Harriet blushed. “I’m not with Fred,” she said, rather more quickly than she’d anticipated.

“I know,” Finn said, his smile a little forced as the song ended.

He looked at the stage as the band announced their final number.

“Well, I have a promise to keep,” Finn said. “Maybe you’ll make it up a bit with Fred for the last song, yeah?”

“If I can find him,” Harriet said, looking around.

“Over there, sitting with one of his mates I think,” Finn said, pointing.

Harriet looked where Finn had indicated and indeed saw Fred sitting with Lee Jordan.

“Thanks,” Harriet said as she hurried over towards Fred.

“No worries, Dove,” Finn called after her as he made his way back to Ginny.

Fred didn’t look up as Harriet approached. Lee Jordan saw her coming however and gave Fred a nudge. Fred looked around and saw her, but he didn’t look pleased.

“Oh, there you are,” he said. “Finally remembered me, eh?”

Harriet felt her lips tighten.

“Okay, Fred, I know I said I’d be right back, but, things didn’t really go according to plan.”

“Tell me about it,” Fred said, taking another swig from his butterbeer.

Harriet felt her grimace grow. Lee Jordan just gave her a sympathetic look. Harriet’s grimace turned into a scowl. She felt like yelling at Fred, telling him off over everything Harriet had put up with that night that Fred clearly had no clue about. Instead, as the band went into their last slow number of the night, Harriet was visited with the image of Aello from the start of the Ball.

Harriet decided it was time to be bold as well. She reached down, grabbed Fred’s hand, and turned towards the dance floor. This plan did not work out as Harriet had figured it would either. Instead of pulling Fred to his feet and leading him towards the dance floor, Fred’s weight stopped her dead and caused her to stumble backwards.

Harriet gave a quiet squeak of shock as she fell back. She felt herself bump into something and felt strong arms around her. As she came to her senses, she both heard Fred’s hearty laugh and felt his chest shaking behind her.

“Okay, okay,” Fred said. “Let’s dance.”

In spite of herself, Harriet smiled as Fred helped her back up to her feet.

“I’m always picking you up, aren’t I?” Fred asked, the corners of his mouth twitching as they headed onto the dance floor together.

“My hero,” Harriet said, making her voice as ironically fluttery and vapid as she could.

“Hey,” Fred snorted as they began to dance. “I’ve done stuff…”

“You did,” Harriet admitted.

“So, what happened?” Fred asked. His tone was much more serious and genuinely curious now, the accusation gone.

“I…” Harriet hesitated. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Harriet didn’t know why she was feeling so confident now, after how much it had been eating at her only minutes before.

“Doesn’t matter?” Fred asked.

“No,” Harriet confirmed. “Weird stuff happened… none of which I intended to happen, and now I just want to dance.”

Without saying anymore, Harriet leaned in, resting her head gently on Fred’s shoulder. Fred didn’t say anything. They kept dancing until the song ended. When Harriet and Fred didn’t leave, the band decided they would play just one more song.

## * * * *

It didn’t even take twenty-four hours for Harriet to hear from her friends. At around three in the afternoon the following day, an owl arrived from Hermione, explaining everything that had been happening since the Ball.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_I imagine you might want your space after everything that happened, but I just had to fill you in on what’s been happening._

_Kieran’s leg is much better. Apparently Doctor Watkins is staying to assist Miss Momori in treating his leg. They think they might be able to help make it even better. They said he’ll probably always need his shillelagh, but he should be able to move more freely if they can figure out what exactly the curse was that caused the damage._

_Jackson regained consciousness this morning. We’re still not sure exactly what happened. They won’t let us speak to him. Rachel’s really upset because no one is telling her much of anything either. Apparently Aaron is required to help with Jackson’s condition, so she can’t get to see him as much as she wants._

_And now I suppose there’s the elephant in the room. Ronnie and Dora aren’t talking. Ronnie won’t leave our common room except for meals, and by the looks of it, Dora isn’t leaving hers except to eat either. Maybe they’ll come around in the next few days._

_I’m really rather surprised by how few people seem to know about it. Well, everyone knows that Dora and Ronnie had an argument, but no one it seems knows about the kiss. We do, of course, but we’re working hard not to let anyone else find out about it. However, Scott and I think it would be best if you were to tell Fred first._

_Sorry for not the happiest letter. I’ll keep in touch._

_Lots of love,_

_Hermione_

Harriet set down the letter, looking out her window. She was home alone, just enjoying the solitude. She didn’t know what to make of the letter just yet, so she decided it would be best to just put it from her mind. There was only an hour until Daniel got home. She got to her feet and headed downstairs. As she got to the bottom step, the door handle began to jiggle.

Harriet felt her body tense up at once. Her wand was back upstairs on her bed. She took another step back up the stairs when the door swung open and Daniel’s smiling face grinned up at her.

“Hey Harricane,” Daniel said, blowing into his hands and stamping the snow off his boots before stepping inside.

“Hey,” Harriet replied, feeling a deep sense of relief. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, well, decided you needed a treat after last night.”

Harriet grimaced. “Oh…? What do you know…?”

Daniel gave her a sympathetic smile. “Well, I heard about your friend Kieran, and about Jackson.”

Daniel paused and his look became more concerned.

“What happened?”

Harriet sighed and sat on the stairs. “Ronnie and Dora are fighting.”

“Oh no,” Daniel said, hanging up his coat before walking over and sitting next to Harriet. “What about?”

“Ronnie likes Dora. Dora didn’t know…”

Daniel raised an eyebrow though he put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder. “Why do I think there’s more to it than that…?”

Harriet took a deep breath. “There is… Ronnie saw Dora kiss me…”

“Kiss you?” Daniel asked. “When?”

“She lead me outside after Kieran hurt his leg… we talked for a while, all about what I’ve meant to her and well…”

Daniel nodded. He didn’t say anything for a while then leaned over with a very serious expression.

“Was it nice?”

“DANIEL!” Harriet gasped.

Daniel fell back on the stairs, laughing. Somehow, the combination of the shock at Daniel’s question, and his uproarious laughter, knocked the melancholy right out of Harriet. In spite of it all, she started to laugh too.

“It’s not funny!” Harriet remarked, still laughing.

“Then why are you laughing?” Daniel asked, trying to catch his breath.

“Because you are!”

“Of course I am,” Daniel replied sitting up again and hugging Harriet tight around the shoulder again. “It was a Ball, it was a party, these sorts of things are supposed to happen.”

“But I went with Fred!” Harriet retorted.

“So?” Daniel asked shrugging.

“So, it should have been him.”

“No it shouldn’t,” Daniel said matter-of-factly.

“Yes it should,” Harriet replied. “Fred likes me and he’s nice and—”

“Hey,” Daniel said rubbing the top of her head a bit, mussing up her hair. “You didn’t owe him anything, okay? Who you gave your first kiss to was your choice.”

“I didn’t want to give it to Dora,” Harriet explained. “She just… sort of went ahead and did it.”

“Yeah, well, that figures,” Daniel said. “I’m not saying she should have done that. Far from it. I’m just saying not to beat yourself up over it. I know people like you, Harriet. I know you want to make everyone happy, and you worry about people thinking poorly of you, especially other good people. But you can’t let that get in the way of your life. Besides, you have a _lot_ of years left to have more things like that happen.”

“Thanks,” Harriet replied sarcastically.

Daniel ruffled her hair some more. “Well, I know that’s not terribly comforting, but it is part of life, okay? Better you expect things to go wrong and be prepared for them than continue to be taken off guard by them.”

“Heh, that’s kind of like what Finn said.”

“What’s that?” Daniel asked.

“Finn, he’s from Rathlin. He told me last night I shouldn’t stick to plans so much. That plans get in the way of things.”

“Hmmmm,” Daniel mused. “I wouldn’t go that far. Plans are good baselines. Here, see?” Daniel patted the wall next to them. “Take a house. Can’t build a house without a plan, can you?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“So, can’t really live life without one. Plans keep you moving forward. They also help you backtrack when things go wrong. The trick is, you gotta set up a plan, but be prepared for the fact it might not work out so easily. It might have to change a bit here and there as it goes.”

Harriet nodded, logging the information in her brain. It did make a lot more sense than what Finn had said. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Good,” Daniel said smiling brighter. “Cuz now you’re in for a late Christmas present.”

Harriet blinked. “What is it?”

“Oh you’ll see,” Daniel laughed. “But you’ll have to get proper dressed first.”

“Oh, yeah okay,” Harriet said, looking down and realizing she was still wearing a tank top, sports bra, and sport shorts.

Daniel smiled more widely and stood, pulling Harriet up to her feet too. She hurried upstairs and changed into a jumper, a pair of jeans, and some warm socks before she came back downstairs. She pulled on some boots and her jacket and together they headed off.

“Where are we going?” Harriet asked.

“Just to the Three Broomsticks,” Daniel said. Harriet couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be an extra spring in Daniel’s step as they walked along.

They entered the pub and Daniel looked around. He didn’t need to look hard. They were the only people in the pub aside from Madam Rosmerta.

“Hmmmmm, not here yet,” Daniel said. “Well we’ll take a table and get ready.”

Harriet was thoroughly confused now. She followed Daniel to the bar where he ordered them both giant mugs of hot chocolate and they picked out a table facing the door. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Daniel was paying much more attention to the door than to his hot chocolate.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Harriet asked again.

Daniel laughed in response. “Always so suspicious, aren’t you?”

Harriet rolled her eyes and took another sip.

“Ah!” Daniel said excitedly. “There they are.”

Harriet looked around at the door. No one was coming through, but in the little window next to the door she saw two smiling, identical faces. She recognized both of them at once as Professor Sinistra’s twin daughters, Rosie and Nanette.

“We’re meeting with Professor Sinistra and her girls?” Harriet asked.

Daniel just gave her a wink. Harriet looked back around as the door opened and Professor Sinistra entered, Nanette and Rosie in tow. Harriet was glad at least that Nanette and Rosie were not quite as identical as Fred and George, or the McGee twins from Hufflepuff. Rosie was a hair taller than Nanette, with slightly darker hair.

“Hello you two,” Professor Sinistra said as the trio approached. “Not been waiting long have you?”

“Oh no,” Daniel said politely. “Couple minutes. How are you girls?”

“We’re fine, Mister Dusk!” Nanette said cheerfully.

Both girls turned to Harriet. “Hi, Harriet!”

“Hey you two,” Harriet responded, a little taken aback at the amount of energy that seemed to radiate from the girls.

“It feels _so_ good to get to come back to Hogsmeade again,” Rosie said, looking around the pub, grinning ear to ear.

“I so can’t wait till next year when we can come every Hogsmeade weekend again,” Nanette added.

“Now, now, girls,” Professor Sinistra said. “You _live_ in Hogsmeade. I think the amount of time you’ve spent here already far outweighs all the time that the other students have put together.”

“Yes, mom,” the girls replied in unison.

Rosie looked over to the corner where a tinny, cackling sound came from.

“Oh, mom!” Rosie said excitedly. “Can Nanette and I go play some Nargle-Nator? Jiao Chang in third year said she just beat my score.”

“Of course, girls,” Professor Sinistra said, opening her coin purse and handing the girls each a handful of Sickles.

The girls hurried off and at once began fighting over who would play first.

“I didn’t know they had games here,” Harriet said. “It’s always so busy and crammed full of people whenever I come.”

“Yeah, they are a bit stuck away in the corner, aren’t they?” Daniel observed. He returned his attention to Harriet and his look softened a bit.

“Anyway, Harriet, Aurora and I have something we need to tell you.”

Harriet felt her sense of suspicion rising. She didn’t know what spurred it, perhaps all the times the Dursleys had made pronouncements that always ended in bad news for Harriet.

“Well, Harriet,” Professor Sinistra said, resting a hand on top of Daniel’s.

Harriet looked down at it before looking back up at the two.

“Wait…” Harriet said before either could say anymore. “Are you two… like… dating? I mean, _dating_ dating?”

“Well,” Daniel said awkwardly. “To tell you the truth, Harriet. We sort of have been.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. Professor Sinistra tightened her lips and now put a hand on Harriet’s. All Harriet could do was look down at it.

“It started after you finished the First Task, actually,” Professor Sinistra explained. “When you, well, when you called Daniel ‘Daddy.’”

Harriet felt her face get very red. She’d never even talked to Daniel about that little exuberant outburst on her part.

“See, Harriet,” Daniel chimed in. “Aurora and I… we’ve sort of been on and off again for a couple of years now… it was just difficult for us to really know if it was right for us to settle down and take that next-step.”

“How come?” Harriet asked.

Professor Sinistra and Daniel gave each other sheepish little smiles.

“Well… I guess I was always worried that I wouldn’t really be able to step in and be the proper father for Nanette and Rosie that they deserved, for one,” Daniel admitted. “But, I guess as I got to know you, I started to realize just how ready I was to settle down and really start living a life.”

“And as for my part,” Professor Sinistra added. “I guess my worries were along the same line. We’ve discussed the circumstances with which I had the girls… It has made it rather difficult for me to trust someone. Especially another charismatic, dashing, well dressed young man.”

Daniel snorted back a laugh. Professor Sinistra rolled her eyes at him, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“Okay, yes you’re older than me, that actually didn’t help you know,” Professor Sinistra said.

Daniel laughed in response, giving Professor Sinistra’s hand a squeeze. “Hey, I agreed that I wasn’t really ready for it yet, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Professor Sinistra agreed. “And that _did_ work out in your favour.”

Harriet shook her head trying to make sense of the banter.

“So, you two wanted to tell me that you’re officially a couple now?”

“Partly,” Daniel said, almost cautiously. “After seeing each other quite a lot over the past month… well… last night…”

Professor Sinistra gave Harriet’s hand another squeeze.

“Harriet, the girls and I are going to be moving in with Daniel.”

Harriet’s eyes went wider. As she recovered from that initial shock, she decided she was glad that she had not been drinking, otherwise she might have sprayed both of them with hot chocolate.

“Moving in?” Harriet asked. “As in like, we’re all going to be living together? One house? Like, a family?”

“Well, yes,” Daniel said. They were both giving Harriet searching looks as if unsure of how to gauge her reaction.

“When?” Harriet asked.

Daniel and Professor Sinistra both smiled in relief.

Over in the corner, Rosie gave a shriek of delight. “Yes! I win!”

“Still didn’t get the high score,” Nanette taunted.

“What? Who’s _Quib_ Girl?”

## * * * *

Aurora and her girls moved in the very next day. For the first few days, Harriet was far from certain how to feel about this new life. It was a lot louder, for one, with so many people coming and going all the time. Daniel and Remus were always popping in and out as they worked at the shop. Aurora spent her days in her office at the school, working on grading the previous term’s essays, and working on her lesson plans for the coming term.

The biggest adjustment was, of course, Nanette and Rosie. They were only two years younger than Harriet, yet it felt as though they were in perpetual motion. Harriet had no idea where the pair got all their energy. They were upstairs, then downstairs, then upstairs, then downstairs again. Harriet didn’t remember being that energetic in her second year. Or maybe she was, but she didn’t have a new home to move into. Her second year was spent paranoid about the Chamber of Secrets.

At present, Harriet was down in the sitting room, looking at her egg. She considered opening it, but she didn’t want to annoy the neighbours. Not only that, she didn’t want to attract Rosie and Nanette’s attention.

Not that Harriet didn’t like them, but she really wanted to focus at the moment, and she found it difficult to do so when both of the girls were hounding her with questions or begging to play Exploding Snap or Gobstones. She didn’t know where the girls were now, probably upstairs in their room.

Harriet furrowed her brow in frustration. What did the egg mean? Was the screeching really another language?

Harriet was so restless as she pondered the egg that by the time she heard the girls again, she was sitting upside down on one of the recliners, her legs spread over the back of the chair, holding the egg above her head looking at it. The thud caused Harriet to jump so violently that she almost dropped the egg on her face.

She set it down as best she could, then clambered awkwardly out of the chair, nearly falling on her face in the process. She got to her feet and dusted herself off, thankful no one else was in the room to see her. She headed to the bottom of the stairs, looking up towards the girls’ room.

“You two okay?” Harriet called.

“Yeah, Rosie just hit her head,” Nanette called back.

Harriet sighed and headed up the stairs. She poked her head into the girls’ room. Nanette was parting Rosie’s hair, looking for the bump. Rosie was wincing.

“That hurts,” Rosie complained.

“Well I gotta find it,” Nanette chastised.

“You don’t gotta find it, it’s right he—ow!”

Rosie tried to point out the spot but her head, but in the process touched the spot, causing her more pain. Harriet sighed moving over, kneeling next to Rosie.

“Let me see,” Harriet said, as she started to look through Rosie’s hair. “What were you two doing, exactly?”

“Seeing who could do handstands the longest…” Nanette admitted.

Harriet snorted. “Who can do headstands the longest?”

“Yeah…” both girls replied, both sounding a bit sheepish

Harriet shook her head as she found the bump. “Well, it’s not so bad. Let’s get down to the ice-box and put some ice on it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harriet and Nanette helped Rosie to her feet and down to the kitchen. She used a knife to chip off a piece of ice, wrapping it in a cloth napkin and placing it on the bump.

“Let’s keep that on for like… fifteen minutes,” Harriet said. “Then take it off for a bit then put it back on for another fifteen minutes, k?”

“Okay…” Rosie said, though she didn’t sound thrilled.

“Don’t wanna sit still for fifteen minutes?” Harriet asked, shaking her head with amusement.

“So _boring_ ,” Rosie said.

Harriet and Nanette accompanied Rosie to the sitting room.

“It’s cold too,” Rosie grumbled.

“It’s supposed to be,” Harriet said. “It makes the swelling go down.”

“Did you learn how to do this stuff on your adventures? Like when you killed the basilisk?” Nanette asked, sounding deeply impressed.

“Heh, I wish,” Harriet said. “I had to learn it from growing up with my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” Rosie asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied. “He and his friends used to pick on me a lot. I’d get scrapes and bumps and all kinds of stuff running away from them. My aunt would just tell me to take care of it myself so… I guess I did.”

Rosie and Nanette were both looking up at Harriet with wide, astonished eyes. In fact, Harriet thought they looked downright horrified.

“Your cousin?!”

“Your aunt wouldn’t help at all?”

“No,” Harriet said.

“Don’t they love you?” Nanette asked, her throat tight.

“No… not… not exactly. Not the way your mum loves you.”

Nanette and Rosie kept giving Harriet wide, terrified eyes. Harriet thought she might as well have just told them a ghost story. Harriet fished around for something more appropriate to talk about.

“So, um… do you two read?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” Rosie replied eagerly. “We got lotsa books. Lots of them are mom’s.”

“Yeah,” Nanette agreed. “We know all lotsa stuff for Astronomy!”

“Well, I mean like, story books?” Harriet asked.

Nanette and Rosie both gave Harriet looks akin to Harriet having just spoken gibberish to them.

“I mean, like… some kids in your world read _Wendy the Wandless Witch_?”

“Ohhhhhh,” Nanette said. “Like _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Mom read those to us when we were _real_ little.”

“Your mum read to you?”

“Uh-huh,” they said as one.

Somehow, Harriet was struck by a moment’s sadness. She suddenly felt herself wishing she’d had that too when she was little. Dudley didn’t let Aunt Petunia read to him. He thought books were stupid. In fact, Harriet wasn’t entirely sure he could read.

Harriet thought for a moment. “Well… would you like it if I read to you?”

“Read what?” Rosie asked, taking the wrapped ice off her head. “My bump feels better.”

“Good, well keep it off for a bit then put it back on,” Harriet said. “And I’ll surprise you, okay?”

“Okay,” the girls agreed as one.

Harriet headed upstairs. She turned into her room and headed towards her bookshelf. There, waiting for her, was her _Nancy Drew_ books. She smiled, kneeling and taking the first book from the shelf. She headed back downstairs where both the twins were still waiting for her.

“This was a gift from one of my best friends,” Harriet explained, retaking her seat between the two.

“Which one?” Nanette asked.

“My friend, Hermione,” Harriet replied.

“Oh, I know her,” Rosie said. “She’s like the best in your year, though Scott does beat her in _some_ subjects.”

Harriet laughed. “Yeah, they do compete a bit.”

She sat again between the two and opened the book.

“ _Nancy Drew_?” Nanette read.

“Yep,” Harriet said. “They’re about a girl who solves crimes and mysteries just using her wits and reasoning. She gets into a lot of trouble though.”

“Kinda like you,” Rosie observed.

Harriet snorted. “Not really,” Harriet admitted. “I get by a lot more on dumb luck and having smart friends.”

Judging by the looks on their faces, neither girl believed Harriet. Harriet just smiled and started to read.

## * * * *

Harriet gave a little snort. She blinked bleary eyes trying to see. She realized her glasses were off, and there were three blurry smiling faces looking down at her. Harriet fumbled around but her glasses came into view, held in a hand she recognized as Daniel’s.

Harriet took them and put them on, looking up into the faces of Daniel, Aurora and Remus. She looked down and saw both Nanette and Rosie sprawled out either side of her on the couch. Both were sitting up, rubbing their eyes.

“’s’goin’on?” Rosie asked.

“Dinner’s ready,” Remus said, cheerfully.

“Dinner’s ready?” Nanette asked. “What time’s’it?”

“A little after six, girls,” Aurora said.

“Dang, we slept a while,” Nanette observed.

“We didn’t get to finish the book,” Rosie said, sounding disappointed.

“And you didn’t get to figure out your egg,” Nanette added.

“That’s okay,” Harriet said. “Still got almost two months.”

Daniel grimaced a little. Apparently, he felt a little more anxious about the egg and the second task than that. Not that Harriet wasn’t, but after finally finding a way to connect with the girls, Harriet didn’t want to make them feel bad.

“Well, let’s eat,” Aurora said. “What were you girls reading?”

“ _Nancy Drew_ ,” Nanette said.

“Is that right?” Professor Sinistra asked. “What’s that about?”

“About this girl who solves mysteries,” Nanette explained. “She’s a muggle. She was trying to solve the mystery of a missing will. Last I remember she got locked inside a closet by some bad thief guy.”

“His name was Sid,” Rosie chimed in.

“That’s right!” Nanette said. “Yeah, and she got away by using the clothes hanging rod to wedge some of the hinges off the door, and she made enough noise doing so that the caretaker found her.”

“Yeah, they’d locked him up too!”

On and on the girls went, straight through dinner. Harriet couldn’t help but smile sheepishly the entire time. Aurora and Daniel kept giving her glowing, proud looks. In spite of all the good food that Harriet had eaten at Hogwarts, all the feasts, she couldn’t help but feel this was the best dinner she’d ever had.

After dinner and the washing-up, Harriet and the girls changed into their pyjamas and came down to listen to the Wizarding Wireless Network as it told them all the news. As they did so, Harriet was struck by an odd thought. For some reason, she felt like she was back at the Dursleys. It wasn’t a bad feeling, even though most feelings Harriet had from the Dursleys were. What struck her was how many times she’d seen the Dursleys sitting around the television at night, like a family, and wishing she could be a part of it. Now, as she looked around, she realized she was now getting something she’d wanted for so long.

By the time the news was over, Harriet was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. Somehow, it felt as though the nap earlier in the afternoon had just made her even more relaxed and sleepy instead of awake. Together, she and the twins trooped up the stairs to their rooms.

“Hey, Harriet?” Nanette asked.

“Yeah?”

“Would you read the rest of the book to us tonight?”

Harriet thought. She was very tired, but she had been having run reading to them.

“I know!” Rosie said with surprising excitement for how tired she looked. “How about Daniel or Mom reads to us?”

“Hey, yeah!” Nanette said. “We could have like an in-home slumber party in Harriet’s room!”

“Well…” Harriet mused. This was a bit more than she’d bargained for.

“Capital idea, girls,” came Daniel’s voice from the bottom of the stairs.

Harriet looked down and saw him holding up her egg.

“Besides, you forgot this,” Daniel said smiling.

Nanette and Rosie both gave squeaks of delight and hurried into their room. Harriet gave Daniel an exasperated look as he reached her.

“Oh it won’t hurt,” Daniel said, ruffling her hair more before handing her the egg.

The twins hurried back out of their room and past them into Harriet’s room. Daniel chuckled.

“Hang on girls,” he called drawing his wand. “I’ll be right there to set up some proper cots.”

“Okay!” the girls called back.

Daniel chuckled again and Harriet followed him into her room. The girls were standing in the middle of the room, holding their pillows and duvets, grinning happily. Daniel raised his wand and conjured up two cots which the girls quickly occupied, cuddling up under their duvets. Harriet set her egg on her desk before she climbed into her own bed, trying not to give the girls looks that were too apprehensive. Why did she feel like they were invading her space so much? They’d napped together on the couch earlier. Harriet normally slept in a room with eight other girls.

Daniel pulled over Harriet’s desk chair next to her bed.

“Now, which one was it you were reading?”

“This one,” Harriet said, handing him the book and opening to the page where they’d left off.

“Ta,” Daniel said, clearing his throat as he started to read.

Harriet cuddled up under her covers as she listened. Daniel’s voice was soothing and low as he read. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, just focusing on Daniel’s words. Before long, she felt as though she was floating, drifting along like a leaf.

The next thing she knew, something touched her forehead, rousing her a bit. She opened her eyes just enough to see Daniel standing back up after leaning down over her. Harriet felt the urge to touch the spot on her forehead. She knew what it was now. Daniel had kissed her forehead goodnight, thinking she was asleep.

Harriet moved her head just enough to look towards the door. Daniel had taken off her glasses for her too it seemed. Maybe she had fallen asleep after all. As she watched, she saw a tall form that she recognized as Daniel move against a smaller form she recognized as Aurora. Slowly, Daniel raised a hand to Aurora’s face. Harriet supposed he was stroking her cheek.

“Seems like they’re getting along okay,” Aurora said. She was speaking very quietly. Harriet could just barely understand her.

“Of course they are,” Daniel said reassuringly. “Harriet’s a great kid… she’s got plenty of love in her.”

“I know… just… Harriet has quite a few friends, but from our talks and runs, I just got the sense she’s such a quiet girl, while Rosie and Nanette…”

“Hey, hey,” Daniel said, wrapping his arms around Aurora. “It’s going to be alright. There’s plenty of time for this all to work out. I promise.”

“Okay,” Aurora agreed. “I know, I know, I’m a worrier.”

Daniel chuckled. “No wonder you and Harriet get on so well—ack!”

“Sh!” Aurora hissed. “You’ll wake them up again.”

“Hey, you’re the one who poked me.”

“Well you had it coming,” Aurora teased.

“Yeah, probably,” Daniel agreed.

Neither spoke for a while. While she couldn’t see them clearly, Harriet got the sense they were both just staring into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” Daniel said softly.

“I love you too,” Aurora replied.

Harriet felt her cheeks get red as she watched the two blurry faces meet. She closed her eyes, trying to pretend to be asleep again. Despite feeling a bit ashamed of herself for eavesdropping again, Harriet felt her lips curl into a smile that she knew wouldn’t go away.

## * * * *

Harriet’s early success in getting along with Rosie and Nanette did not last long. Come the night of the twenty-ninth, Harriet was starting to feel at her wit’s end. Now the girls were just as hyper as before, but now they wanted to involve Harriet in everything they did. They wanted her to read to them. They wanted her to take them in to town, even though Daniel told her that she couldn’t on her own. They wanted her to play games with them.

Harriet, meanwhile, only wanted to figure out her egg. Somehow, it no longer felt like the task was two months away. Now, it felt as though it was mere weeks away.

Adding to Harriet’s anxieties, Fred had not written her back. She’d written to him on the twenty-seventh, explaining everything that had happened. Now, two days later, she still had not heard back from him. She wondered if she should have Daniel take her up to the school to try and talk to him in person.

“How’s the egg coming?” Nanette asked as the pair poked their heads into Harriet’s room.

Harriet could only muster a grunt in response. She’d opened the egg again, which she supposed had attracted the girls’ attention.

“What _is_ that sound?” Rosie asked, looking at the egg, narrowing her eyes and studying it closely.

“No idea,” Harriet replied, holding each syllable to make her annoyance even clearer.

To Harriet’s further frustration, the girls entered the room. “Can we help?” Nanette asked.

In spite of her frustration, Harriet was starting to feel guilty. She could tell they only wanted to help, but somehow, Harriet couldn’t help but feel she needed her privacy for this. She was supposed to work on the clue alone after all.

“Not unless you know what a crazy, loud shrieking noise means besides like… I don’t know… a banshee or something.”

“That didn’t sound like a banshee,” Rosie said thoughtfully. “But I think I have heard that before.”

Harriet gave Rosie a sceptical look. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Rosie said. “I’m trying to remember. Can I hear it again?”

Harriet signed. _Well, what will it hurt besides our eardrums_? She thought as she pulled the egg open once more.

Immediately, the ear-piercing screeching filled the room. Nanette and Rosie both clamped their hands down over their ears. Harriet forced the egg closed again, rubbing her temple. She was starting to get a headache.

“I do know it!” Rosie declared, her eyes wide with excitement.

“You do?” Harriet asked, bewildered.

“Yeah!” Rosie said. “That’s Mermish! We learned about it during my first year in the academy! We had a class on magical races!”

“Mermish?” Harriet asked. “Like mermaids?”

“Yeah!” Rosie said excitedly. “Hang on!”

Rosie leapt to her feet and ran from the room. Nanette ran off too in hot pursuit.

 _Don’t they walk anywhere?_ Harriet thought to herself as she got up off her bed and followed. As she stepped into the hall, she heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. She looked inside, and saw that Rosie was filling the tub with water.

“What are you doing?” Harriet asked.

“Watch!” Rosie said, pointing at the water.

“Okay…” Harriet muttered, leaning against the doorframe, her egg tucked under her arm.

Finally, the water filled up almost to the overflow drain. Rosie turned it off and turned to Harriet, holding out her hands.

“Lemme see the egg,” she said.

Harriet hesitated, but as she looked down into the wide, eager eyes, she found she couldn’t resist. She handed over the egg.

Rosie opened it at once. Harriet winced and squinted her eyes as the shrieking filled the tiny bathroom. Then, to Harriet’s horror, Rosie dropped it in the water.

“What are you doing?!” Harriet asked, moving forward to grab up the egg.

“Listen!” Nanette said eagerly, pointing at the water.

Harriet stopped and watched and listened. She felt her own eyes go wide. The shrieking had stopped. Instead, there was a soft, gurgling song coming from the egg. A stream of bubbles was rising from it.

“Okay…” Harriet said. “Well, you stopped it from screaming…”

“Put your head under!” Rosie gasped, bouncing up and down, clearly very proud of herself.

Harriet looked down at the smiling identical faces. Before she even knew what she was doing, Harriet pulled off her jumper and t-shirt, put her glasses on the sink, and knelt next to the tub. The water was cold, but the lure of the bubbling song was too much. Harriet plunged her head under the water.

 

‘ _Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you’re searching, ponder this:_

_We’ve taken what you’re sorely miss,_

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour – the prospect’s black,_

_Too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.’_

Harriet pulled her head back up and took a deep breath.

“I was right! It’s a song, isn’t it!” Rosie said, clapping her hands.

“It was,” Harriet said, wiping her hair from her eyes. “Get a quill and parchment.”

“I’ll get it,” Nanette replied and hurried out of the bathroom.

Rosie was still grinning ear to ear.

“Magical Races class?”

“Ya-huh!” Rosie nodded. “It’s compulsory for all magical kids to take at Rathlin in their first year. We learn all about Merfolk and Minotaurs and all that.”

“Heh, Hogwarts could have used a class like that…” Harriet said.

“It could, but I doubt they would be taught in it,” Rosie explained, moving out of the way as Nanette returned, setting down the quill, ink and parchment.

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

“Merpeople consider themselves beasts instead of beings,” Rosie replied. “So the Ministry probably wouldn’t require teaching about them.”

“Well, Dumbledore probably would teach about them,” Nanette said fairly.

“Well, either way,” Harriet said, feeling breathless in her excitement. “Take this down you two.”

Harriet plunged her head under the water once more, listening close to the song, before pulling her head back out to recite the song line by line.

## * * * *

By the night of the 31st, Harriet and the twins had gained a tenuous truce. They let her have her space when she was in her room. When she was out of the room, play was fair game. They had also read through almost all of the Nancy Drew books that Harriet had. Now they were finally on the sixteenth book, the one that Harriet liked the best.

At least, it was her favourite at one time. She hadn’t read it since the night that Aunt Marge had stumbled across her secret and attacked her for it. As Harriet read to the girls, and they came to the part where Nancy was captured and tied up by the villains, Harriet felt a growing sense of anxiety.

She felt as though the twins would be able to see into her mind through her eyes, and learn the truth about Harriet’s secret desires if she looked at them.

“Are you okay?” Nanette asked.

“What?” Harriet started, “Oh, yes I’m fine.”

“Your face is really white,” Rosie observed.

“Does this part remind you of when Sirius Black attacked you?”

Harriet felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. So the girls didn’t know about Sirius’ innocence?

“No, no,” Harriet said quickly. “That was a misunderstanding when that happened.”

“Oh,” both said at once.

“I woulda thought it was scary,” Nanette said. “Dragged off and tied up like that.”

“I dunno,” Rosie shrugged casually. “It’d be exciting.”

“Wrong kind of exciting, I think,” Nanette replied before looking back up at Harriet. “So, how come you always get so tense in those scenes like if Nancy’s locked in a room or tied up?”

Harriet grimaced, trying to think of how to explain without saying too much. Finally, she struck on a thought.

“Well, I guess… a bit part of it is my upbringing,” Harriet explained. “Like, you know about my aunt and uncle?”

“Yes,” both girls replied, bitterly.

“Well, yeah, I guess… I think a lot of it has to do with that.”

“Ohhhh,” the twins intoned at once, nodding.

Satisfied she’d explained well enough, though feeling a bit guilty for lying, Harriet continued to read. Nanette it seemed wasn’t done with her curiosity.

“But, if you put up with it there for so long, how come you can like, even read this at all?” Nanette asked.

Harriet felt her impatience rising.

“Because the book’s not real,” Harriet said, just listing off the first thing she could think off the top of her head.

“But it was real to you,” Nanette pressed. She was looking deeply concerned now.

“Look,” Harriet said. “It just… it makes me uncomfortable, okay?” Harriet said, almost snapping in her curtness.

Both the girls gave Harriet looks as though she’d bellowed at them. Harriet sighed closing the book.

“I’m sorry, okay? Things like that just… make me remember some bad things that happened once. I don’t really want to talk about it though.”

“Why not?” Rosie asked.

“Because I don’t know how to talk about it!” Harriet shouted.

She slammed the book shut, tossed it on the couch and stormed up the stairs. She slammed the door to her room and fell back on her bed, a hand on her chest as she breathed heavily. She felt like she’d just run a mile. Her whole body was on edge.

“What was that about?”

The unexpected voice made Harriet feel as though she’d leapt out of her skin. She sat up and looked around, her eyes finally settling on Sirius’ tiny face in the mirror.

Harriet once more felt shame returning. She shouldn’t have shouted. She was sure the twins would tell Aurora about it, and she’d get mad.

“I… just… the twins,” Harriet said.

Sirius chuckled darkly. “Heh, don’t talk to me about annoying siblings.”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Should have had my brother,” Sirius explained.

“Why? What was he like?”

Sirius snorted. “Little Death Eater wannabe, he was,” he said.

“No!”

“Oh yeah, my whole family loved being pureblood fanatics. You’re getting off perfectly easy with those two.”

Harriet didn’t know which to feel more: surprised at this revelation about Sirius’ family, or shame for how she’d treated the girls. She decided both at once.

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “I didn’t know…”

“It’s not exactly something I crow about,” Sirius said. “Spent most of my life pretending I wasn’t related to any of them. And they were only too happy to respond in kind. Still—” Sirius snorted and hitched a smile back on his face. “You have something wonderful going on here, Harriet. Something I didn’t have except when I spent time at your dad’s. A family.”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“I mean, come on… you’ve seen Daniel and Aurora together. Give it enough time and you’ll have three little siblings to contend with, not two.”

Harriet blinked. “Three?”

Sirius’ lips twitched. “Never mind. Anyway, what set this off, might I ask?”

Harriet looked at Sirius’ little face in the mirror, thinking. She remembered all too well the moment in her third year when she’d overheard Professor McGonagall explaining how Sirius was also into the things Harriet was. She wanted so badly to tell him. She’d only told Kieran because she had to tell someone, and Kieran was just the first person she’d run into.

There was a little knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Harriet asked.

Her voice cracked, and Harriet was suddenly aware of the fact she was crying. In the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Sirius vanish from the mirror.

“Harriet…?” came Nanette’s little voice, sounding even smaller than usual.

Harriet rose off her bed and walked over to the door. She pulled it open and both Rosie and Nanette were standing there. They both took a step back, clearly expecting Harriet to still be angry. Nanette tentatively held out Harriet’s book for her.

“We were just, um, giving you your book back,” Nanette said.

Rosie nodded. “We won’t ask you to read again, promise.”

Harriet didn’t know what drove her to do it. And she didn’t really care. She lowered herself onto one knee and reached out, putting a hand on each girl’s shoulder and pulling them into a tight hug.

Both girls went rigid in response, before slowly hugging back.

“I’m sorry,” Harriet said, sincerely. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. It was really dumb. I know you two just want to help.”

“Then why’d you shout at us?” Nanette asked.

Harriet sighed again. She just sat right where she was on the floor. Both Rosie and Nanette sat too, looking at her with concern.

“It’s because… I’ve just… I’ve had a lot of bad things happen to me,” Harriet said. “Stuff I don’t know how to tell you about. Stuff I don’t know how to tell anyone about. And when I get pushed on it… I just sort of panic.”

Nanette and Rosie slowly nodded.

“It… it makes me scared… it makes me want to run away.”

“But… you faced a basilisk,” Rosie chimed in, disbelieving.

“I know, I know,” Harriet said. “But the basilisk… I don’t know, it was just different. Like that… that’s something outside. But when it’s inside my head, I can’t run away or fight it. And… I guess that scares me even more.”

Rosie and Nanette didn’t look as though they understood, but Harriet didn’t blame them. She really didn’t get it herself.

“But… when you were up against the basilisk, you just faced it, and you beat it,” Nanette said.

“Well, I had help,” Harriet admitted.

“Well, we could help!” Rosie said eagerly.

Harriet blushed. “Thanks… we’ll see. Unlike the basilisk, my stupid mind isn’t about to eat me.”

The twins giggled at that. Reassured, Harriet smiled more. “So… want me to finish the book?”

“Yes!” Both replied at once, holding the book out to her again.

“Alright, back to the couch then,” Harriet replied.

The girls were down the stairs and already on the couch by the time Harriet even got to her feet.

## * * * *

It seemed as though the girls did not tell Aurora about Harriet’s outburst, much to Harriet’s relief. Once Daniel and Remus returned from work, they all went out to dinner together to celebrate New Year’s. Daniel and Remus had kept the shop open for the day so that the townsfolk could buy new winter clothes for the big New Year’s festivities that Hogsmeade celebrated every year.

People came from all around the country to attend. Many of the shops, such as Honeyduke’s, were open. The twins had a lot of fun showing Harriet how much more they knew about the town than she did. Harriet didn’t care at the moment. She was feeling too good with getting out and about finally, after almost a whole week spent shut up in Daniel’s house with the girls.

They were walking along when suddenly Harriet spotted a familiar face in the crowd waving to her. It was Tori Hoffman, her fellow Gryffindor. Tori was standing with two people, only one of whom Harriet recognized. One was Tori’s mother, who had spoken to Harriet’s History of Magic class during their second year about the war in America. The other Harriet assumed to be Tori’s father.

“Daniel, can I go talk with Tori for a bit?” Harriet asked, pointing the three out.

“Sure,” Daniel smiled. “That her dad? I’d like the chance to meet him.”

“Thanks!” Harriet said and hurried over to Tori, Daniel close behind her.

“Hi, Harriet!” Tori said eagerly, before turning to her parents. “You’ve met my mom, but this is my dad, Arnold!”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Harriet said smiling and shaking the man’s hand.

“My word,” Mr Hoffman said. “ _The_ Harriet Potter. It is a certain honour to meet you.”

“You too, sir,” Harriet replied. “Tori’s told me all about you and how you saved everyone.”

“Ah, anyone would have done the same,” Mr Hoffman said before holding out a hand to Daniel. “Arnold Hoffman.”

“Daniel Dusk,” Daniel replied, shaking Mr Hoffman’s hand.

“Oh yes,” Mr Hoffman said. “We were in your shop this afternoon!”

“That you were,” Daniel laughed. “If you don’t mind my saying so, no I don’t think just anyone would have done what you did.”

Mr Hoffman blushed a little and tried to act dismissive of the praise. Mrs Hoffman shook her head at him, smiling.

“So, you two came here to see Tori?” Harriet asked, still grinning.

“Well, I did,” Mr Hoffman said. “Clemence lives here of course. I came to see them both for Christmas and New Year’s. Managed to catch a drink with that young officer who was here, Kane, too. Impressive young man for sure. You know it was him who stopped that horrible attack on that muggle village? The one the bastard Secessionists had holed up in to use as human shields. Virgil.”

“What?” Daniel asked. “They were using human shields, but attacked anyway?”

“Well, supposedly the officers didn’t know that the town was Muggle. It was so small it wasn’t even on the map. They thought it was a freaking pro-Secessionist settlement. They were in another pro-Secessionist state after all. Still, it was a terrible thing.”

“Yes,” Mrs Hoffman agreed. “Though I still find it rather distasteful that everyone has made such a big deal out of that little town, when those monsters killed thousands of our neighbours for fun; magic and muggle included.”

“Well, I suppose every life is precious,” Daniel said. “Though I agree, that is a double-standard.”

“So, how are you and Miss Potter related?” Mr Hoffman asked cheerfully.

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm. As she looked up at Daniel, she saw that he was blushing as well. “Well, I’m um… an old friend of her parents,” Daniel said. “Just watching over Harriet for Christmas holidays.”

“That’s wonderful,” Mrs Hoffman said. “Tori told us that you always spend the Christmas holidays at school.”

“Yeah,” Harriet nodded. “It is a lot of fun getting to kinda… do something normal.”

“Normal is a very relative term in this day and age,” Mr Hoffman said. He checked his watch. “Tell you what, get some drinks at that marvellous little pub?”

“The Three Broomsticks?” Daniel laughed. “Not what I’d call little.”

“No, no,” Mr Hoffman said. “That other one. Hog’s Head I think. Much quieter, can really relax and have a real conversation.”

“Oh,” Daniel nodded, laughing again. “Not many go for the place. Bit rough around the edges, but the barkeep there is nice enough I suppose. Yeah, why not.”

“Awesome!” Tori said.

Daniel waved to catch the rest of their party’s attention and they made their way to the Hog’s Head. As they approached, Harriet couldn’t help but see Daniel’s point. The sign didn’t have the name on it, but it was unmistakable. It featured a large, severed boar’s head, bleeding all over a white cloth.

“Oh yes, charming, Arnold,” Mrs Hoffman said, shaking her head.

“It’s cozier on the inside,” Mr Hoffman admitted as they stepped inside.

Harriet had to secretly disagree. The room was very small compared to the Three Broomsticks. It was also filthy, and smelled like a farm in Harriet’s opinion. Harriet thought the floor looked to be dirt at first, but she quickly realized that it was in fact stone, covered in an inch-thick layer of dirt from the outside and soot from the fireplace.

“Hey you guys,” came the voice of Hyland as the adults sat in one of the only open tables in the place. Harriet and Tori were sitting at their own table, the twins at yet another. Harriet watched as the twins quickly began to play a game of tic-tac-toe with each other in the grime of the nearby window.

Hyland hurried over to them, pulling up a chair to join the girls. “What brings you guys in here?” Hyland asked.

“Someplace different than the Three Broomsticks,” Tori said.

Harriet noted that the barkeep, an ancient looking man, was taking orders from the adults. Harriet tilted her head as she looked at the man. Something about him was very familiar, but she couldn’t see his face well enough.

“That’s just Ab,” Hyland said dismissively. “He doesn’t like anybody very well. Anyway, so what are you two up to?”

“Just enjoying the festivities,” Harriet said. “How about you?”

“Helping out Ab,” Hyland replied. “Cuz you know, we _so_ need it in here!”

Harriet and Tori laughed. At the table next to them, Daniel and Remus snickered as quietly as they could.

“So, how was the Ball?” Hyland asked. “I couldn’t come that night, Rosmerta needed my help down at the Three Broomsticks. Lotsa adults were there because they could get _real_ drinks as they put it.”

Harriet twisted her lips. Tori however smiled. “Oh, I had a fairly good time…” she giggled a little girlishly.

“Ooooooo, got in a good snog, eh?” Hyland teased.

Tori’s cheeks went beet-red. “Maaaaybe,” she giggled more.

“What about you?” Hyland asked, turning to Harriet.

“I… well…” Harriet said, trying to see how she could worm her way out of this.

“You mean you and Dora didn’t?” Tori asked.

“What?!” Harriet gasped.

Tori looked quite taken aback. “Sorry!” she said quickly. “Just, when Chris and I saw you two walking off together, I guess we just sort of assumed…”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Harriet said, feeling her breath return.

Hyland was looking completely flabbergasted.

“Well, um, anyway,” he said, clearly trying to change the subject. “How did Antoinette look?”

Harriet couldn’t help but notice that he now sounded apprehensive. As though he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

“She was lovely,” Tori said. “She um… she went with Michael Corner…”

“I know,” Hyland said miserably. “She told me when I sold her the dress…”

Tori put a sympathetic hand on Hyland’s shoulder. “You can just tell her, you know? She’ll slip away otherwise.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hyland said. “I just… I dunno what I’ve got that anyone else doesn’t have. Like I’m just some bum kid who works in a shop. How will I win out over guys who can see her every day?”

“Well, showing her how much you really care would be a good start,” Tori said. “Michael Corner seemed as though he was more than a bit interested. You gotta work hard to get what you want.”

Hyland didn’t look as though he’d heard the rest of what Tori had said. At being told that Michael Corner was interested in Antoinette, Hyland had gone rigid, staring into the distance. Harriet saw that his hands were shaking, and his knuckles white where they were gripping each other.

“…Hyland?” Harriet asked.

Tori stopped her pontificating and looked at Hyland more closely too. He didn’t look like himself anymore. It was as though someone much like Hyland, but not like Hyland was actually sitting in the chair. He finally looked over towards Harriet, then back to Tori. His once blue eyes were now jet black.

“Aren’t you two pretty…?” Hyland said, his voice full of an almost bestial hunger.

“Hyland?” Daniel said.

Hyland blinked and at once his eyes seemed to go back to blue. Harriet looked over at Daniel. He was looking at Hyland with a very concerned look indeed, now standing half way out of his chair.

“Yeah?” Hyland asked, as though nothing had happened. “What… why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“C’mon lad,” the barkeep said, putting a hand on Hyland’s shoulder. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“But it’s early,” Hyland said, though he did sound very tired. In fact, he seemed to have a hard time lifting himself from his chair.

“Well, a nap then, then we can see the fireworks.”

“Yeah… fireworks are cool.”

The barkeep led Hyland up a nearby set of stairs and out of sight. Harriet looked back at Daniel. She noted ominously that both Daniel and Remus were slowly sliding their wands back into their pockets.

“What was that about?” Tori asked. “I’ve… did his eyes go black?”

“Yeah, I uh… I think they did…” Harriet replied.

The barkeep returned at that moment. “Drinks on the house,” he said gruffly, refilling the adults’ drinks and fetching some very old, dusty bottles of Butterbeer for the girls.

Harriet and Tori continued to chat, both apparently ignoring the awkward moment with Hyland.

“Sorry for making that assumption,” Tori said later. “About the Ball, I mean. I was just in such a good mood that night, like, wanting everyone to just be happy and all that.”

“I know,” Harriet said, smiling now.

“Especially after nearly getting caught by Snape,” Tori said. “So weird now I think about it. I wonder what he and Professor Ilves were talking about. Like she seemed genuinely upset with him. I didn’t even know they knew each other. They’ve never spoken to each other that I’ve seen.”

“Yeah… that is weird,” Harriet agreed, thinking back to that night. “You say she was worried about his arm?”

“Yeah, she kept demanding to see it,” Tori said. “Like it meant something bad…”

“Maybe he burned himself bad in Potions or something?” Harriet suggested.

“Maybe,” Tori agreed. “But you’d think Snape wouldn’t do that, or he’d get it properly treated, wouldn’t you?”

Harriet could only shrug.

They finished their drinks and headed outside. Now it was finally near midnight. They bid the Hoffman’s farewell and headed off to the hill near where the fireworks were set off. They had brought a big blanket which they laid out on the side of the hill along with most of the population of Hogsmeade. Remus took one end, then Daniel, then Harriet, then Rosie, then Nanette, and finally Aurora. Harriet sneakily took out Sirius’ mirror from her pocket. She surreptitiously set him on her stomach so he could watch too.

They lay there, chatting happily until midnight finally came. A witch on a broomstick flew over the crowd. She held up her wand, firing a large ten into the air. Then a nine. With each number, the crowd below shouted out the numbers. Harriet was grinning happily. This was the first New Year’s fireworks she had ever been to. The Dursleys had always made her go to Mrs Figg’s whenever they went to watch fireworks.

Harriet furrowed her brow, thinking. Why did the name Figg suddenly seem to mean more to her now than it usually did?

Harriet shook her head and re-joined the countdown.

_3!_

_2!_

_1!_

_HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

 

The crowd all broke into uproarious applause. Couples jumped up and down, kissing passionately. The witch shot towards the ground as the fireworks began exploding around her.

Harriet looked up at Daniel. He wasn’t watching the fireworks. Instead, he was looking over the top of Harriet’s head at Aurora. Harriet looked over to see that Aurora was smiling back at him. They weren’t kissing, but they were holding hands very tightly over the top of the girls’ heads. Harriet turned her attention back to the sky, and grinned the biggest grin she thought she’d ever had.


	25. What If?

“We dwell on the question so often I sometimes wonder if ‘what if’ is the most human of our traits. I caution that ‘what if’ is a most fickle friend. When wielded with care and respect, it can help us see the road ahead. When used negligently, ‘what if’ can trap us in the darkest of hells. I speak from experience, having lived both sides of that coin.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“Wakey, wakey.”

Harriet grunted as she tried to force her eyes open. Daniel was smiling down at her.

“S’goin’on?” Harriet managed to mumble.

“We’ve got to take a little trip,” Daniel replied. “Gotta get dressed. Something nice.”

Harriet sat up, looking around half-consciously. Daniel chuckled and got up, walking out of the room. She saw by her bedside clock that it was only six in the morning.

Harriet watched Daniel leave, then promptly laid back down.

“Nuh-uh, up and at’em,” Daniel called.

Harriet groaned and threw off the covers. She blinked, making her way to the bathroom. She squinted as she turned up the lamp in the bathroom too bright and turned it back down before attempting to tame her hair and brushing her teeth. She walked back into her room, looking at her wardrobe.

_Wear something nice?_ She thought. What was Daniel on about? She opened the doors and saw some clothes she didn’t recognize hanging inside. She reached in and pulled it out. There was a note pinned to it, which read: _Hey look, it’s something nice! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Harriet._

Harriet looked the outfit over properly now. It was a green and black tartan pinafore style dress. The skirt was knee-length and pleated, and there were golden buttons on the trunk. It was complimented with a black knitted turtle-neck jumper and matching cable-knit kneesocks.

Harriet blushed despite her solitude and quickly changed into the dress. She stepped in front of her wardrobe’s mirror, looking it over as she tied her green scarf into her hair. She sat on her bed, putting on a pair of mary-janes before heading to the door. She paused just long enough to call “Good morning!” to Sirius’ mirror on her dresser, but no reply came.

“Still sleeping,” Harriet said, stifling another yawn herself.

Harriet headed out of her room and towards the stairs. The door to Nanette and Rosie’s room opened and both girls stepped out. Harriet noted that both girls were wearing matching outfits to hers, though Rosie’s was in blue and Nanette’s in red. The girls were also wearing tights instead.

“S’goin’on?” Nanette asked, rubbing her eyes a bit as she mirrored Harriet’s own groggy question to Daniel.

“Search me,” Harriet said. “Something big apparently.”

The trio headed downstairs. At the bottom, Harriet saw Daniel, Remus, and Aurora waiting for them.

“Bravissimo,” Remus said as they came into view.

“Thanks,” Harriet said.

“Thank you, Mr Lupin,” Nanette said politely.

“He said to just call him Remus now,” Rosie corrected.

“But I’m too used to him being a teacher,” Nanette replied.

Remus chuckled good naturedly.

“So, what’s the occasion?” Harriet asked.

Both Remus and Daniel gave her enigmatic grins. Daniel held out Harriet’s coat for her and she put it on, the girls taking their coats from Remus and Aurora. Remus opened the door and the little troupe moved out into the cold, dark, wintery morning.

“Bit brisk,” Remus said, pulling his coat tighter around his neck.

“A bit,” Daniel agreed.

Harriet shivered. She was starting to wish she’d been given tights instead of socks.

“Are you two gonna tell me what this is about?” Harriet asked, looking up at Daniel and Remus.

“Should we?” Daniel asked Remus.

“Probably at some point,” Remus replied.

“Spoil the surprise?”

“She’s a smart girl, she’ll figure it out herself before then.”

“I’m right here you know,” Harriet muttered.

“And I’m really confused,” Rosie chimed in.

Daniel laughed, ruffling both Harriet and Rosie’s hair. Both girls grumbled, trying to fix their hair again. Aurora smiled, stepping in to fix it for them. Remus meanwhile simply chuckled and held out his right hand with his wand.

_BANG!_

“I’ll never get used to that,” Harriet grumbled as the massive, purple wall of the triple-decker Knight Bus blocked the opposite side of the street from view. Around them, lights started coming on in the bedroom windows of the other houses as the noise from the bus woke the neighbours.

“Omigosh,” Nanette gasped, now sound fully awake. “The Knight Bus! I’ve always wanted to ride on this!”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Harriet admitted.

“Hello, and welcome to the Knight Bus!” came the familiar voice of Stan Shunpike, the Knight Bus’ conductor.

He hopped into sight, just as spotty and purple as ever.

“Morning, Stan,” Daniel said cheerfully. “Uniform looks sharp as ever.”

“’Ello Mr D!” Stan said, even more cheerfully. “Right sharp it does at that. Just wouldn’t be the same without yer fine duds.”

Stan gestured down to his purple uniform, the same shade as that of the Knight Bus itself.

“Where can I take you lot today? Blimey! ‘Arriet Potter! Riding the Knight Bus again! We’re gonna get right famous at this rate we are!”

“Just down to London, Stan,” Daniel said. “Ministry guest entrance.”

“Right you are, Mr D. There’s seats on the second deck still open.”

“We’re going to the Ministry?” Harriet asked as they ascended the steps into the Knight Bus. “Is this something to do with Sirius? Are we going to see more of his trial?”

“Told you she’d work it out first,” Remus said.

“Clever-dick,” Daniel snorted. “Yes, there’s been another development in Sirius’ case.”

“Do I have to testify again?”

“No, no no,” Daniel reassured her as they took their seats. “Just watching today. Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done,” Harriet replied, feeling the knot starting to build in her stomach. “Why aren’t the rest coming?”

“They will,” Remus said reassuring her. “We’ll pick them up on the way.”

Harriet couldn’t help but feel there was more than what they were telling her. She was interrupted from asking as the bus banged into motion once again tossing her back in her seat. Almost the same instant they started, they stopped again, flinging everyone back in the opposite direction.

Down below, Harriet could hear Stan talking again. She looked out the window and saw a crowd of shadowy figures moving onto the bus. She looked around more and recognized the front gates to the Hogwarts grounds.

There was the sound of more tramping feet coming up the stairs. Harriet felt a wave of torn emotions as her friends came into view. Hermione was first, dressed in a navy pants suit. Then came Ronnie, dressed surprisingly nicely in a white blazer, white button shirt, and black slacks. Marcus, Kieran, and Scott all came one after another, all dressed in nice suits.

Harriet blinked in surprise. Kieran wasn’t using his shillelagh. She looked down an instead noticed something about his right leg didn’t look right. It seemed to have odd bumps in random places.

Next came Dora. Harriet was struck at once at how subdued Dora looked. She was clearly avoiding Harriet’s eyes on purpose as she took her seat.

“Hey,” Kieran said, smiling widely at Harriet. “Take a look at this!”

Kieran reached down, hiking up his right trouser leg. As Harriet watched, a brace came into view, reminiscent of the one that Charlie had made for Kieran to put on a broomstick.

“Dr Watkins made it for me!” Kieran explained, grinning with pride. “I still can’t run or do any of that stuff, but I can walk pretty well without my shillelagh for support.”

“That’s great!” Harriet said, grinning herself.

“Dr Watkins is amazing,” Kieran went on. “I can’t believe how much he knows about both Magical and Muggle healing. He says he’s dedicated his whole life to healing in both worlds.”

Harriet smiled and was about to speak when four more people ascended the stairs. First was Erica, then was George, then was Fred. The last to come up was Hagrid.

Harriet barely saw him. At the sight of Fred, her world stopped. Fred stopped too. For a moment, the two just looked at each other. The bus had gone silent.

“Seats, please!” came Stan’s voice from down the staircase.

With no further warning, the bus banged into motion. Fred nearly fell back down the stairs but Hagrid managed to grab hold of the back of Fred’s jacket collar and lifted him up in the air.

“Thanks, Hagrid…” Fred grumbled as Hagrid set him back down.

“Don’ mention it,” Hagrid said cheerfully.

Fred adjusted his jacket and made his way over to where Harriet was sitting.

“Hi,” he said simply.

“Hi,” Harriet replied awkwardly.

“Wanna talk?” Fred asked, nodding to the front of the bus where there were some open seats, further away from everyone.

“Okay,” Harriet agreed.

She got to her feet, which was easier said than done with how much the bus was shaking and jerking. They took seats and Fred sighed.

“Sorry I hadn’t written back.”

“I guess I don’t blame you,” Harriet said.

“No, you should,” Fred said. “I was being a jerk. All around… I have been all year. I’ve just been so stressed out over being ripped off by Bagman and… well it’s no excuse.”

Harriet didn’t say anything.

“So I guess what I’m saying is… I was an idiot. And… I still had a really good time while we were dancing and… please don’t hate me?”

Harriet didn’t need to think about it.

“Of course I don’t hate you, Fred,” Harriet said. “I had a great time, too. So… what is the deal with Bagman? He keeps trying to help me out with the tournament.”

Fred narrowed his eyes. “Really… know what I’ll bet? I’ll bet you anything the cheapskate has money riding on you.”

“That makes sense,” Harriet agreed, thinking hard. “No wonder he wants me to win…”

“Yeah,” Fred nodded. “Lee said his dad’s been having trouble getting money from Bagman too.”

“Is he even allowed to do that? He’s a judge.”

“Doubt it,” Fred said. “But we’ll have a lot of trouble proving it.”

The bus screeched to another stop.

“We’re here,” Daniel called.

Everyone rose and filed off the bus.

“That was so cool!” Rosie said.

“I wonder if that’s what Muggle jets feel like?” Nanette asked.

“That’s pretty likely,” Daniel chuckled.

Together, the large group made their way to the phone booth that was the visitor entrance to the hidden Ministry of Magic. Harriet stepped inside with Daniel. Harriet felt her nerves rising higher and higher as the elevator inside the phone booth sank lower and lower.

Daniel seemed to sense her tension and put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a calming squeeze. Harriet put one of her hands on his, squeezing back.

They waited in the atrium as the rest of the group joined them. Harriet took deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t help but feel that if she just knew what was happening, she would feel more relaxed. She decided to distract herself by trying to talk to Ronnie.

“Ummm, that’s a nice outfit,” Harriet said. “Where’d you get it?”

“Christmas,” Ronnie said flatly.

Harriet twisted her lips. “Oh, that’s nice… who from?”

“Dora.”

Harriet chewed the inside of her lip awkwardly. This was not helping her nerves at all.

“Oh, umm, well, that was nice of her.”

“Yes, it was,” Hermione agreed curtly, giving Ronnie a sharp look. “Especially since she got it for you _before_ all of this foolishness began.”

“Hey, I wore it, didn’t I?” Ronnie grumbled.

“That my adorable little sister did,” George said, putting an arm around Ronnie’s shoulder and hugging her tight against him.

Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“Why are you mad at Dora?” Nanette asked.

Ronnie didn’t reply. Harriet didn’t think it had anything to do with Dora finally entering the atrium either.

“There you all are,” came the voice of Mr Weasley, who was bustling over to them along with Mrs Weasley. “Same courtroom as before, everyone. Come along, they’re about to start!”

Harriet felt as though she was moving on auto-pilot as they made their way across the large atrium and past the golden fountain.

“If this is so important, why are they doing it so early?” Harriet asked after they made it through security.

“No doubt the Wizengamot wants as little press present as possible,” Remus said.

“That’s a good sign,” Daniel grinned.

Remus returned it. Harriet looked up at the two, thoroughly confused and far from reassured. What did this mean? She didn’t dare to hope. After the fiasco that was the Yule Ball, Harriet wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic these days.

“Why is that a good sign?” Harriet asked.

“It means they’re trying to play down what’s about to happen,” Mr Weasley explained.

They boarded the golden elevators that Dora’s family had donated and started downwards. Harriet had so many questions, but she didn’t know how to ask any of them. To make matters worse, the lower the elevator went, the tighter her throat got, to the extent that she was sure she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.

The elevator stopped and the disembodied voice called off the floor.

“Department of Mysteries.”

Daniel snorted.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Once upon a time, that elevator announced that this was the courtrooms,” Daniel explained. “The Ministry wouldn’t even confirm or deny the existence of the Department of Mysteries. Now the Ministry would rather admit that the Department of Mysteries exists than acknowledge these old skeletons. There’s a lot of baggage to go around in this place.”

They walked down the long, dimly lit corridors, finally stopping at the same courtroom where Harriet and her friends had given their testimonials. They began filing inside but a hand took hold of Harriet’s arm, stopping her. Harriet looked around to see that it was Dora. Dora still wasn’t looking at Harriet, instead seemed more focused on Harriet’s shoes.

“Can we talk?” Dora asked. She was difficult to understand, as she was barely opening her lips.

“Okay,” Harriet agreed.

They stayed behind as the rest of the group entered. Daniel lingered, giving Harriet a searching look but Harriet waved him on. He nodded and let the door slowly close behind him. Harriet was sure that he was standing just behind the door, waiting.

“I’m…” Dora said, her fists clenched, looking as though she was going through absolute torture trying to speak.

“What?” Harriet asked. She was trying to sound concerned, though she thought she might have come across as offended.

Dora looked off down the hallway. “I miss you…”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. “I-uh… I miss you too.”

Dora crossed her arms. “I mean it. I miss us all hanging out. I miss laughing with everyone. I was stupid and let my feelings get in the way of everything again and risking ruining everything and…”

Dora hung her head again. “I guess I just realized that no matter what, having you all as friends means more to me than anything else… it’s all of you who push me to be the best person I can be. So… are we okay?”

Harriet didn’t know what to say. Not because she was upset; far from it. She had just never seen Dora like this before.

“Of course we are,” Harriet said.

Dora reacted immediately. She pulled Harriet into a tight hug. Harriet slowly hugged back.

The door opened behind them and Harriet turned to see Ronnie standing there. Harriet and Dora let go of each other at once but to Harriet’s surprise, Ronnie was actually smiling.

“Daniel says it’s about to start. Come on.”

Dora hurried past Harriet and into the courtroom, out of sight. Ronnie kept smiling, a little smugly, as Harriet reached her.

“Let me guess, you overheard all of that,” Harriet said under her breath as she and Ronnie headed towards the seats where the rest of the group was sitting.

“Yep,” Ronnie whispered back.

Ronnie gave Harriet a look. “Oh don’t look at me like that, you’re the biggest eavesdropper I’ve ever met.”

Harriet looked away, more than a little abashed. They moved up to sit with the rest of the group. They were situated in the rearmost seats in the courtroom, over to the side from where the judges had all sat when Harriet had testified. Everyone sat in silence for a while, as though everyone else had finally given over to their nerves and couldn’t think of anything further to say either.

After what felt like ages, or perhaps it was no time at all (Harriet couldn’t be sure) the door opened once more. Harriet felt her throat clench as the judges began to file in. Most of them paid no mind to the gathered group of onlookers. However, one or two did give Daniel or Mr Weasley little waves or nods of acknowledgement. However, the reception was not all positive, such as the Minister of Magic’s Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, was also amongst the judges. The look that she gave Harriet as she passed gave her a chill.

“Toady’s pissed,” Daniel smirked. “That’s a _very_ good sign.”

“Yes, one could almost say she looks hopping mad,” Remus agreed.

Harriet had to try very hard not to laugh.

Another welcome face to appear was that of Professor Dumbledore. He gave them all a very kind smile before he joined the other Wizengamot judges. She noted that Professor Wengshuk was not with him this time.

The judges all took their seats, and promptly began rummaging about in their notes and chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“Well, isn’t this _lovely_.”

Harriet jumped and turned around. Rita Skeeter was smirking down at Harriet in particular. She was wearing her horrid green coat again. Harriet wondered how Skeeter had got in without Harriet noticing. She supposed she was a bit distractible at the moment.

“Ah, hello, Rita,” Daniel said, not bothering to hide his disdain.

“ _Charming_ to see you again, Mr Dusk,” Rita said, overlooking Daniel’s tone. “And you’re here, Harriet. Still on top of the fashion game I see. The word on the street is that your dress for the Yule Ball was simply _divine_. One of Mr Dusk’s own custom creation’s, I’m sure?”

“Uh, yes?” Harriet replied.

“Marvelous,” Rita Skeeter said. “You know, I’m sure _Witch Weekly_ would just _love_ to do a little expose on Harriet Potter, the fashion and the fame. Just imagine it, your face on the cover, every boy wanting you, every girl wanting to _be_ you—”

Amelia Bones cleared her throat pointedly and Skeeter fell silent. That was lucky, Harriet thought, because at that moment Daniel had started to get to his feet. Harriet looked down and saw that both his hands were clenched in fists and his jaw was set. He sat back down and Harriet put a hand on his arm to calm him.

He looked down at her and his look softened at once, returning to his usual smile. In the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Rita Skeeter studying them both closely. Fortunately, her _Qwik-Quotes Quill_ was not out yet.

“Call Sirius Black,” Amelia Bones’ booming voice rang out.

Harriet’s head swivelled back to the door so fast that she felt her neck crick. The doors opened and four Aurors entered. Harriet’s heart clenched.

There was Sirius, right in the middle of the four as they guided him towards the chair. In spite of how many times she had seen him in her mirror, the shock of seeing Sirius in person for the first time in half a year struck her right to her core. Even worse was seeing the chains on his arms and legs.

Harriet started to rise out of her seat but Daniel gently put a hand on her arm. Down the row, Harriet could see Erica and the rest looking equally distressed. Harriet slowly lowered herself back into her seat again, returning her attention to the courtroom, where Sirius was being set into the horrible chained chair in the middle of the room.

To Harriet’s horror, the chains on the chair sprang to life, wrapping themselves around Sirius, chaining him to the chair. Harriet rose at once but to her surprise it was Erica who spoke out first.

“Hey! He’s already chained up!” Erica shouted.

There was a flutter of mutterings from the gathered judges. Mrs Weasley put a comforting arm around Erica’s shoulder, hugging her tight. In spite of her worries over Sirius, something about the gesture stuck in Harriet’s mind. This was the first she had ever seen Mrs Weasley and Erica interact. Harriet didn’t know what she’d expected, but somehow the sight of Mrs Weasley hugging and comforting Erica warmed Harriet’s otherwise palpitating heart.

Harriet looked back on the scene. Sirius was giving Erica a pained smile, which he also gave to Harriet. Harriet now noted that Professor Howe had entered the room. He had his usual air of complete confidence about him as he stood next to Sirius in the chair.

Madam Bones cleared her throat again. “Sirius Black, the Third. You are summoned here today to hear the final verdict in your case.”

Harriet’s whole body went rigid. This was why Daniel had wanted it to be a surprise.

“Yes, Madam Bones,” Sirius said with a politeness Harriet did not think she had ever heard from him.

“In summation, the goal of this court was to determine the truth of the events on the night of the thirty-first of October, nineteen eighty-one, the morning of the first of November, nineteen eighty-one, and the night of the ninth of June, nineteen ninety-four. Through expert testimony, eye-witness accounts, testimony given under the use of Veritaserum and the examination of Ministry-examined, unaltered memories, we have finally reached our verdict.”

Harriet wasn’t sure if she was breathing anymore, or not. She wasn’t even sure if her heart was still beating.

“Sirius Black,” Madam Bones said, leaning forward. “You were sentenced to life in Azkaban without trial for the death of thirteen Muggles, the death of Peter Pettigrew, and treason against the Ministry of Magic in aiding the dark wizard known as You-Know-Who in killing James and Lily Potter and attempting to murder their daughter, Harriet Potter.”

Harriet forced herself to take a breath.

“Yes,” Sirius replied.

“You then broke out of Azkaban prison. You evaded Ministry Aurors and Dementors for months. You broke into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry twice. You vandalized a priceless antique portrait.”

Harriet grimaced. This was starting to sound worse and worse. She chanced a glance up at Daniel. Somehow, he didn’t look the least bit worried.

“You then abducted Miss Erica Quoy. At a later date, you kidnapped Harriet Potter.”

Harriet felt herself starting to squirm in her chair.

“However, the testimonies given and the facts properly examined for the first time have shed considerable light upon these events.”

Harriet stopped squirming.

“Through testimony given by one Daniel Dusk, we discovered the truth regarding the continued existence of Peter Pettigrew, previously declared deceased. We also ascertained the fact that it was in reality Mr Pettigrew who not only committed the mass murder of thirteen innocent Muggles, but also betrayed the wizarding world by revealing to You-Know-Who the location of James and Lily Potter, resulting in their deaths.”

Harriet felt some of her tension beginning to ease off. That sounded much better than Madam Bones’ initial comments had.

“Furthermore, there was the testimony of Healer Miriam Strout of St Mungo’s Janus Thickey Ward for long-term care. On Healer Strout’s testimony, we examined the mindset of Sirius Black and his actions from his escape to his surrendering to the Ministry. Healer Strout explained to the court how over ninety-percent of Azkaban’s prisoners show signs of madness within two years of incarceration in Azkaban Prison, whilst Sirius Black had sustained twelve years.”

Harriet felt like shouting now too. They locked him away someplace that would make him go mad? Even though he was innocent? How many other people had been sent there falsely and driven mad? Their lives ruined? She thought of Hagrid and how traumatised he had been after spending so little time there. It was wrong.

“Furthermore, was Sirius Black’s physical condition. At the time Sirius Black turned himself over to Ministry control, he only weighed ninety-seven pounds, had a high fever, and had begun to show signs of Scurvy due to malnutrition.”

Harriet could hear little gasps from the group around her.

“Healer Strout also testified to the lack of proper sleep that Black would have suffered whilst on the run. According to Healer Strout, it only takes forty-eight continuous hours of being awake for the human brain to lose considerable cognitive function, and even begin hallucinating. Taking all these factors into account, it was made clear that by the time Sirius Black made his way to Hogwarts, his mental state would have been deeply diminished.”

Harriet felt tears in her eyes as she looked at Sirius now. She looked back at Madam Bones who was leaning back in her chair.

“Sirius Black… after taking great care, and much heated debate amongst the judges of the Wizengamot, we have finally reached a verdict. This case is unprecedented in the history of the Wizengamot, and so we took the strongest measures we could to ensure we properly considered every factor of the case.”

“Come on, come on,” Harriet heard Daniel muttering under his breath.

Harriet took hold of his hand, squeezing it hard.

“Sirius Black. On fourteen counts of murder with malice aforethought, this court finds you: not guilty.”

Harriet squeaked. She tried to cheer out and yet stop herself from cheering at the same time.

“On the charge of Treason: giving vital information to You-Know-Who, betraying the Ministry and causing the deaths of James and Lily Potter, the court finds you: not guilty.”

Harriet was practically bouncing in her seat now.

“On the charges of breaking and entering, escaping from Azkaban Prison, and two counts of second degree abduction…”

Harriet’s jaw was clenched tight. Madam Bones hesitated and Harriet felt as though she was going to pass out.

“The Wizengamot finds you, in a hitherto unprecedented decision, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Harriet was about to cheer but stopped. _Reason of insanity? What does that mean?_

Madam Bones leaned forward again. “Sirius Black, the Wizengamot has decided that in light of your weakened mental and medical state, you are to be remanded into the custody and care of your former acquaintance and former Auror, Daniel Dusk.”

Harriet gasped and spun around to look at Daniel. Daniel was grinning down at Harriet, giving her a very happy wink.

“Mr Dusk has already been approached regarding the eventuality of this verdict, and accepted the responsibilities therein. However, the court asks that Mr Dusk speak to me, Amelia Bones, in my office regarding further details of your caregiver status of Mr Sirius Black, and to fill out the appropriate paperwork. He will be handed over to your custody at that time, and from then on will be counted a free man.”

Now it was the time. Harriet and everyone else leapt to their feet, cheering. The chains binding Sirius fell off and he slowly rose to his feet. He kept looking down at his hands, as if completely overwhelmed with disbelief. Harriet hurried down the stairs along the benches as fast as she could. Sirius turned, and his still gaunt face broke into a wide, genuine smile as he spread his arms wide, catching Harriet as she leapt into his arms in a tight embrace.

## * * * *

The Three Broomsticks had never seen such a party. It felt as though the entire village of Hogsmeade had turned out to celebrate. A giant banner had been strung across the ceiling, proudly declaring: _WELCOME HOME SIRIUS BLACK!_

Harriet was feeling more than a little overwhelmed in all the revelry. She kept being jostled around in the crowd as people moved around; laughing, clasping hands, slapping backs, exchanging hugs. Harriet caught a glimpse of Sirius in the crowd. He was sitting on the bar, raising a frothing mug of beer high in the air, leading a gathered group of people in a rousing rendition of ‘Odo the Hero.’

Harriet watched him a moment. The only time she’d seen a happier smile on Sirius’ face was in the photograph from her parents’ wedding. The song ended and Sirius put a hand to his forehead, scanning the crowd.

“There’s my goddaughter!” Sirius cried out as his eyes fell on Harriet.

He pointed towards Harriet and the crowd parted. Harriet blushed but Sirius hopped down off the counter and spread his arms wide.

Harriet didn’t hesitate. She rushed forward, catching Sirius in another leaping hug. The crowd burst out into uproarious applause once more.

“My little good luck charm,” Harriet could just barely hear Sirius say over the ruckus. “My little hero!”

Harriet felt her eyes well up as she hugged him tighter. He finally set her down and turned her around, his hands on her shoulders. He raised a hand for silence and the crowd quieted down.

“I first want to thank everyone for coming,” Sirius said.

Harriet could feel him grip her shoulders a bit harder to steady himself.

“But most of all… I have to thank Harriet here. Without her, I’d not be standing here now talking to you all. I’d still be in Azkaban, little by little losing my faith that I’d ever see the world outside those bars again.”

The crowd gave another cheer though it quickly faded as Sirius made it clear he wasn’t done speaking.

“No, really now, I’m _serious_ —”

The crowd burst into laughter and Sirius joined in.

“I’ve always wanted to make that joke!” he shouted. “Years of others making it at my expense! Finally time I joined the fun!”

Harriet rolled her eyes uncomfortably.

“But honestly now! Honestly!” Sirius called, quieting the crowd once more. “A year and a half ago, I was a shell of a man. Then, a newspaper was given to me that showed me the truth. It showed me that the true evil in this world was still out there. And not only was it still at large, but it was near to the one thing my best friend in the entire world held more dear to him than any other! His daughter! My goddaughter! Harriet Potter!”

The crowd cheered yet again.

“So, I did what no one else had ever done before! I broke out of Azkaban!”

Another round of cheering.

“But I don’t want to talk about myself!” Sirius called. “No! Because I was a lost soul. And it wasn’t me who saved Harriet, oh no! It was Harriet who saved me!”

The crowd stayed quiet this time, everyone listening closely.

“I set out on a mission to kill the one who had wronged me, the one who had really killed Harriet’s parents! The one who had taken her parents from her and my best friend from me! Who set me up to take the fall for it!”

The crowd went quieter still.

“And I caught him! And I was going to kill him!”

Harriet looked up at Sirius. He sounded almost bestial again, as if he was on the verge of raging. However, he looked down at her and his look softened at once.

“But it was Harriet who said ‘no’!” Sirius declared. “It was Harriet who stopped me from becoming what everyone thought I was all along. A murderer. A monster. And she stopped me from leading my two remaining best friends down the same dark path…”

The crowd was deathly silent now.

“Then, when both Dumbledore and Howe told me to turn myself in, let the evidence speak for itself, I didn’t do it for them. I didn’t do it for me. I did it for Harriet.”

Now the crowd cheered again.

“All through the trial, I knew we’d succeed. I knew because Harriet believed in me. Because I know, there’s nothing in the world that this girl can’t do when she puts her mind to it!”

Harriet felt even more awkward now.

“Let’s hear it for her!” Sirius shouted, drawing the biggest cheers from the crowd yet.

Harriet managed to slip away as the crowd moved in on Sirius again. It didn’t feel right somehow. This wasn’t what she’d expected Sirius’ return to be like. Then again, she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected his return to be like at all.

She was starting to feel short of breath. The crowd was closing in on her. Her body felt as though it was on pins and needles. The room felt as though it was spinning.

There it was. Warm relief swept over Harriet as she saw the door. She hurried towards it, forcing it open and darting out into the cold, evening air. It was already dark outside, and a light snow was falling. She leaned against the door frame, taking deep breaths as the claustrophobic feeling left her.

“Yeh’alright there, ‘Arriet?”

The voice made Harriet jump noticeably and she turned around. Hagrid was leaning against the outside wall of the Three Broomsticks. His hair was almost white from the falling snow. He must have been outside for a while.

“I-I think so,” Harriet explained, rubbing her arms. “I just…”

“Heh, I ‘eard the speech,” Hagrid chortled. “Didn’ ‘xpect yer ta enjoy it much. Known ya long enough ter know yeh ain’t one fer the spotlight.”

“No, not really,” Harriet said, shivering.

“Here yeh are,” Hagrid said and draped his massive overcoat over Harriet’s shoulders.

Harriet felt as though she was now stuck in place by the coat’s weight, but she appreciated its warmth greatly.

“So, why are you out here alone, Hagrid?” Harriet asked.

Hagrid sighed. “Just doesn’ feel right, me being a part of the cel’r’brations.”

“Why not?” Harriet asked, making her way over to him as best she could, struggling with the weight of the overcoat and sitting next to Hagrid on the small bit of the bench that was still exposed.

Hagrid stroked his beard. “Well… twas only a year ago I was sittin’ in this very pub, chatting with McGonagall, Rosmerta, Flitwick and the Minister of Magic ‘imself about Sirius.”

Harriet felt her stomach churn a little. Hagrid didn’t know that Harriet had overheard the entire conversation.

“So many ‘orrible things we said about ‘im, Harriet. Course at the time we didn’ know, but that don’t feel like an excuse some’ow.”

Harriet put a hand on Hagrid’s arm. He looked down at it and smiled weakly.

“Yeh know… the night yer parents died… I was the one Dumbledore sent ter collect yeh.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. She did know, but she still didn’t know what to say.

“An’ the crazy thing was, Sirius Black showed up there right aft’ I did. Got there just as I was carryin’ yeh out of the wreckage. He told me ‘ee was yer godfather, and I should give yer over ter him. I ‘ad me orders from Dumbledore though, on where yeh were tah go. And I told ‘im no.”

Harriet still didn’t say anything.

“And I keep thinkin’ back on that night. Been tormentin’ me ever since ‘ee turned ‘imself in. A guilty man, knowin’ ‘ee was facin’ the D’menters again, wouldn’t just turn ‘imself in like that. That’s the moment I knew… I knew he really was innercent after all.”

Hagrid sighed looking up at the stars.

“And I ask m’self how things would have been diff’r’nt iff’n I had just handed yeh over. Cuz once I said no… he gave me his motorbike… his prize possession it was… and told me ter take it ter get ter Dumbledore. Thought he was goin’ on the run but no… he was huntin’ down Pettigrew. But what if I’d handed yeh over?”

Hagrid looked down at Harriet again, his expression a little stricken.

“He’da probably stayed with yeh… never gone aft’r Pettigrew at all. The truth woulda come out back then… Yeh’d have been able ter grow up with him… Have yerself a normal life…”

Harriet saw the glint of tears starting to form in Hagrid’s eyes. She hugged his arm tight.

“Oh Hagrid,” Harriet said. “You can’t think like that. You didn’t know. How could you?”

Hagrid gave another deep sigh.

“Yer right, Harriet. But it still makes me feel like a hyp’r’crite ter be in there with all the people celebratin’.”

To their right, the door chime jingled. Harriet looked over to see Remus walking towards them. “Oh I wouldn’t say that, Hagrid,” Remus said, kindly.

“Oh, ‘ello, Remus,” Hagrid said, sounding a bit more cheerful.

Remus smiled walking over to them. “I myself believed as strongly as anyone that Sirius was guilty. If I can put aside my past failings and enjoy a triumph, so can you. And let’s face it, a party in the Three Broomsticks is nothing without the jolly face of Rubeus Hagrid.”

Hagrid laughed and now grunted getting to his feet.

“Yer right there, Remus, quite right,” Hagrid said. “Bein’ silly. C’mon, Harriet, let’s go back in and enjoy the fun, eh?”

Harriet hesitated. She still wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to return to the large, rambunctious crowd. Remus seemed to read her mind again.

“It’s dying down now,” Remus said reassuringly. “Most people have settled into tables.”

Harriet listened. It did sound a bit quieter in there now. She got to her feet and followed the two back inside. While it was quieter, Harriet did not entirely feel less awkward. People raised their glasses to her as she passed, grinning merrily and calling her name.

Remus put a hand on her shoulder and guided her back to a table in the back corner. There she saw Daniel, Aurora, Sirius, Professor Spring, and another woman who Harriet didn’t recognize sitting at the table. The new woman’s hair was short and spikey like Professor Spring’s, but instead of blonde it was a bright pink. She was wearing a ratty Weird Sisters’ tee-shirt and ripped jeans and black combat boots.

The new woman was lounging back in her chair, but sat up quickly as Remus and Harriet approached the table. She was first looking at Remus, but turned her attention to Harriet and smiled, holding out a hand to her.

“Wotcher, Harriet,” the woman said in a strong southern English accent. “Tonks. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh, you too,” Harriet said, shaking the woman’s hand. She wondered what Tonks meant.

“Tonks here is an old friend of mine, Harriet,” Professor Spring explained.

_Ohhhhh_ , Harriet thought. _Her_ name _is Tonks._

“That’s putting it lightly,” Tonks laughed.

“Nymphadora is training to be an Auror, Harriet,” Remus explained, gesturing to Tonks.

Harriet raised her eyebrows. Tonks was giving Remus a burning look, and unless Harriet was much mistaken, the corners of Remus’ mouth were twitching.

“Okay, Auror trainee or not, you call me Nymphadora again, Remus, and so help me I’ll Bat Bogey you so hard you’ll be too afraid to sneeze ever again!” Tonks said, trying to sound stern but breaking out into laughter all the same.

Daniel laughed too. “Tonks prefers to be known by her last name only,” he explained.

“So how’s studyin’ under Mad-Eye?” Tonks asked Harriet. ‘He taught me most everything I know as an Auror, you know? Speakin’ of, Remus here says you’re thinkin’ of becoming one yerself?”

“W-well, he said I’d be good at it,” Harriet admitted.

“I’d say yeh would,” Tonks said, winking at Harriet. “If even half the stories about you so far are true.”

Harriet blushed madly.

“So, Sirius,” Professor Spring said to Sirius. “Is it true you used to have a flying motorbike?”

Sirius groaned. “Merlin yes… it was a beauty. Nineteen fifty-nine Triumph T120 Bonneville. Jet black.”

Professor Spring also groaned in appreciation. “It must have been gorgeous… You know that was Ed Turner’s last production design. One of the prototypes hit a hundred twenty-eight miles an hour.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. Somehow, the effect of the intrigued excitement on his face made Sirius look ten years younger.

“I _did_ know that. I also know Turner hated the concept of them. I suppose that’s part of why I took to it. There’s something to be said for great things that are hated by their creators.”

Professor Spring laughed brushing back some of her blonde hair. “So, was it the original four-speed, or the five?”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking very impressed indeed. “It was the four-speed originally, but I gave it a few modifications so the transmission was never really used that much. You know, flying and all that.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Found it in a junkyard of all things. I put my all into bringing it back to life.”

“Do you still have it?” Professor Spring asked. “I’d love to see how it ticks sometime.”

“Nah, gave it away years ago,” Sirius said. “The night… well…” he shot an awkward glance at Harriet. “Yeah, a long time ago. Not sure he still has it anymore.”

“Who?” Professor Spring asked.

“Hagrid, actually,” Sirius explained. “In fact… I thought I saw him around here somewhere. I should ask. See if he’d be willing to part with it again.”

“I’d like that,” Professor Spring said, taking another sip from her glass and smiling at Sirius in a way that even Harriet could tell meant she was interested in a lot more than a motorbike.

“So, what was it like, being on the run all that time,” Professor Spring asked, leaning over the table and smiling wider at Sirius.

Sirius’ grin doubled in size.

## * * * *

“M’not’drunk,” Sirius slurred as Daniel and Remus worked together to half carry, half drag him down the street back towards Daniel’s house.

“Of course you’re not,” Daniel chuckled.

“It’s only the first alcohol you’ve had in thirteen years without eating anything beforehand and barely weighing a hundred pounds,” Remus chided.

Harriet and Aurora exchanged looks, both trying not to laugh. They reached the house and Aurora opened the door while Daniel and Remus helped Sirius inside. It seemed odd now for the house to be so quiet. Nanette and Rosie had gone to stay with the Flumes’ for the night, as no one was sure how long the party would last.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Aurora said. “I will see you gentlemen, and you Harriet, in the morning.”

“Goodnight, hun,” Daniel said, leaning over just far enough to peck her on the lips without dropping Sirius.

Aurora smiled before looking down at Harriet. “And I think it’s definitely past your bedtime, too.”

“Yes, m—Aurora. Definitely.” Harriet agreed, starting up the stairs. “Good night.”

“Good night, Harriet dear,” Aurora said, heading off to her and Daniel’s bedroom.

Daniel and Remus meanwhile carried Sirius into the sitting room, no doubt to lay him out on the couch. At the very top of the stairs, Harriet paused. Had she almost called Aurora “mum?” She hadn’t meant to. Then again, she hadn’t meant to call Daniel “daddy” either. She shook her head, trying to put it from her mind.

Harriet entered her room and immediately felt exhausted. She changed out of her new outfit and into her pyjamas. It was then that something caught her eye and made her pause as she prepared to get into bed.

She saw the mirror Sirius had given her sitting on her dresser. A strange thought occurred to Harriet. She wouldn’t be able to talk to him through it again until she was back in school. She wondered why this thought seemed so strange to her. Surely, getting to talk to him for real was a much better alternative, wasn’t it?

Yet, there had been something exciting about using the mirror. There was that hint of danger to it, the thrill of doing something secretive right under the Ministry’s nose. That was gone now. She could talk to Sirius literally anytime she wanted now while she was at school. She didn’t have to hide it anymore.

Harriet picked up the mirror and looked at it. Somehow, the little Sirius in the mirror had taken on the role of being Sirius himself to Harriet. Now that Sirius was free, and in the same house, the little mirror felt lifeless, like just another tool.

Harriet sighed and set it down. She was about to crawl into bed when a sharp laugh caught her attention. She looked around to see that her door was still open a crack, and as she listened closely, she could hear voices from downstairs.

Harriet started towards it, when Ronnie’s words from just before the handing down of the verdict lunged into the forefront of her mind: _you’re the biggest eavesdropper I’ve ever met_.

Harriet hesitated. She shouldn’t listen in. They were all old friends who deserved this time to finally catch up after all these years.

Harriet’s instincts won out quite handily over her sensibilities. Slowly, Harriet crept to the door. She snuck out and came to the top of the stairs. They were too old and creaky; they would easily hear her if she tried to go down them. Fortunately, the three were all speaking loud enough that Harriet could hear them clearly from here.

“—Merlin’s beard man…” she heard Sirius say. “I’d forgotten how wonderful women are… that little blonde angel… Abby…”

“Easy, tiger,” Daniel chuckled. “Don’t let your heart run away with your head there. You literally just met her.”

“She knows motorcycles… do you have any idea how incredible that is…”

“Yes, yes. A real miracle,” Remus said, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Surely such a thing has never ever occurred before in the history of mankind.”

“Watch it, Mooners,” Sirius slurred. “Yer not all that tough when yer not all fuzzy.”

“Oh trust me, I’m shaking in my boots,” Remus chuckled.

“B’sides… yer in no place ta talk. Pinky was giving you the eye all night long too, I noticed.”

That seemed to shut Remus up instantly. Sirius laughed again before a lull of silence fell over them.

“I miss James…” Sirius said finally breaking the silence.

“We all do,” Daniel said, his tone kinder now.

“She looks just like him, doesn’t she?” Sirius asked. “I mean in a good way.”

“She definitely got the best mix of both parents, to be sure,” Remus said, also speaking in a quieter tone.

“It’s my fault,” Sirius said, his voice cracking. “I should have been there. I should have listened to Dumbledore. None of this would have happened if we’d just let him be the secret keeper!”

“Hey, hey!” Daniel interjected, sounding as though he was trying to calm Sirius. “It’s no one’s fault but Peter’s and Voldemort’s. You did what you thought was right. It’s not your fault the little shit sold us out.”

By the sound of it, this calmed Sirius a little. He at least stopped yelling. In fact, he suddenly started sniggering.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“I was just remembering that night… you remember the one…? When we were all still friends together… Halloween, seventy-nine.”

“Oh god,” Daniel muttered.

Even Remus laughed now. “How could I forget; you were dressed as a hinkypunk.”

“I was a good hinkypunk!” Daniel spluttered. “I showed people to safety!”

Harriet clapped a hand over her mouth, trying desperately to stifle her laughter.

“That’s right!” Sirius laughed. “You kept hopping up to ladies in the street, telling them you’d show them the way out of the swamp.”

“Hey, that was a _long_ time ago!” Daniel retorted, sounding equal parts embarrassed and amused.

“Well it was you who had the idea of trying to find where James and Lily were,” Remus chortled.

“Okay so… maybe I’d had a bit too much cider that night too…” Daniel admitted.

Sirius laughed even louder. “The look on their faces!” he paused, trying to catch his breath. “When you knocked on the window holding up that ridiculous lantern.”

“ _Pardon me? It seems as though I’m the one lost now_!” Remus said, imitating Daniel’s voice and causing Sirius to go into even greater fits of laughter.

“Bo-bo-both of them—” Sirius paused taking more breaths between laughs. “Flying out be bed—both bare-arse naked. Lily screaming and throwing her shoes at us. James raging at us.”

“ _We’re trying to make a baby, you arseholes_!” Remus cried, wheezing as he tried to control his own laughter.

Even Daniel was laughing now. In fact, that was all they did for another three minutes, just laugh hysterically. Finally, the three quieted down into mere giggles, before silence fell on the room.

“Well… we can’t have interrupted too much,” Daniel finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Sirius agreed.

“Indeed, Harriet was born the end of the next July. Nine months on,” Remus chimed in.

“Yep…” Daniel said. “Little Harriet…”

“You ever wonder…” Sirius mused. “What things would be like if we hadn’t done that?”

“What you mean?” Remus asked, stifling a yawn.

“I mean… if we hadn’t interrupted them that night. You think Harriet would still be Harriet…?”

“Ah, who can tell,” Daniel said. “What happened, happened. Not much we can do about it now, can we?”

There was another moment’s silence.

“You really love her, Daniel, don’t you?” Sirius asked. “As a daughter?”

Daniel didn’t respond right away.

“I do, Sirius. I really do. She’s just… she’s made everything in my life so much better. She got me two of my best friends back. She helped Aurora and me decide it was time to finally settle down. She just makes me feel… whole… when she’s around.”

“I think Harriet has given us all a great deal of meaning in our lives that we’d been lacking for a long time,” Remus agreed.

“To Harriet,” Sirius said.

“To Harriet,” Daniel and Remus repeated.

Harriet could hear the sound of shuffling feet down below. She figured that Daniel and Remus were about to head to bed. She rose and silently as she could and snuck back into her room. She paused to pet her little dragon on its head, which she had decided to name DIDS (Dragon of Diminutive Size) and slide into bed.

Harriet looked back at the mirror. She didn’t need it anymore. Having Sirius in her life for real was definitely going to be an improvement. She closed her eyes, and one big yawn later, was fast asleep.


	26. The Visitor

“Offering forgiveness often seems reward less, especially when the act suffered runs deep. However, it is through forgiveness that one often finds the most unexpected allies.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“You know, this does put an interesting spin on the world,” Sirius observed as he and Harriet lounged in the sitting room of Daniel’s house.

They were both sitting in recliners, upside down. DIDS was presently doing his best to curl up and sleep in Harriet’s belly-button.

“I know, right?” Harriet said. “I started when I was trying to figure out the egg.”

Sirius laughed. They were home alone at the moment. Sirius said that it was because everyone else had finally left to give them some quality time alone.

Harriet smiled more before her attention returned to the topic they’d been discussing before. “So… my mother’s favourite subject was really Potions back in the day?”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius nodded seriously. “Tops in the school in the subject she was. Well, used to go back and forth with Sniv—er, Professor Snape.”

“Feels weird thinking about anyone but him teaching it,” Harriet said.

“Oh yeah,” Sirius replied. “It was taught by a stuffy old duffer named Slughorn back in the day. He was head of Slytherin house too. Don’t get me wrong, plenty nice chap, but maybe a little _too_ nice if you catch my drift.”

“Not really?”

Sirius chuckled. “Slughorn played favourites; hard. And his favourites were the kids who looked like they’d go on to be famous or influential in one way or another.”

Sirius gave her a very pointed upside down look. “See, he helped them out, then he could call on them for favours later.”

“Ohhhhh,” Harriet nodded, understanding now.

“Yeah, and he was damned good at it. But that didn’t make him a bad person,” Sirius said. “Honestly, he was a lot of laughs. He was a little too close with my brother for my liking though…”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, just that my brother was one of his ‘Slug Club,’” Sirius explained.

“The ‘Slug Club?’” Harriet asked, snorting in disgust.

“Nuh-uh,” Sirius said. “You don’t get to laugh. Your mum was in the club too.”

Harriet stopped sniggering at once.

“Was my dad?” she asked after a moment’s silence.

“No, no,” Sirius said dismissively. “James and I never had time for that claptrap. None of us did. We had our own adventures to live and stories to make. We didn’t need some old walrus face pulling our strings for us.”

“Walrus face?”

“Oh yeah!” Sirius laughed, holding up his hands under his nose so his fingers hung over his lips like a large brush with very thick bristles.

“Looked just like thimf,” Sirius said, his voice slightly muffled by his fingers.

Harriet laughed at both the mental image of Slughorn Sirius was making, and the sight of Sirius himself.

“So Daniel wasn’t part of the club either?” Harriet asked.

“Nah, though he was on Slughorn’s radar, for sure.”

“So how did Daniel get to be an Auror then?” Harriet asked.

“Hard work,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Sometimes that can get people ahead in life, after all.”

“Did any of the rest of you want to be Aurors?”

Sirius chuckled. “Your dad, for one.”

“Why didn’t he become one?”

“Well, hard to do all the necessary training to be an Auror when you’re on the run from Lord Voldemort with your wife and infant,” Sirius explained.

“Good point,” Harriet admitted, feeling foolish.

“As for Remus—well—Aurors were never going to hire a werewolf. As for me, I’ve never exactly taken authority all that well.”

“Nooooooooo.”

Sirius laughed.

“So… you always talk about the stuff you got up to with my dad, but not Daniel and Remus as much.”

Sirius’ smile became a little forced. “Well, we were all friends, but I guess some of us were a bit closer than others. Your dad and I didn’t care so much for rules, unlike Daniel and Remus.”

“Then why did you all hang out so much?”

“Hey, our friendship wasn’t purely predicated on that,” Sirius replied. “You know… the real thing that brought us together the most I think was Remus.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius said. “We all saw he was the odd kid out. We didn’t need to look out for Peter, he followed us everywhere we went whether we wanted him to or not. Remus was the kid who needed a friend. He was smart, and when he wasn’t being a stick in the mud he could actually be pretty funny. So I suppose James and I started hanging out with him, about the same time and for the same reason Daniel did. So, through Remus, we became friends with Daniel.”

Harriet pursed her lips as she digested the new information.

Sirius continued. “When we figured out Remus’ secret, James and I were a bit worried about what Daniel would do. But I guess it turns out we’d had an impact on him as well, because first question he asked was something like ‘what are we going to do to protect him?’”

“Really?” Harriet blinked. She smiled internally. The way Sirius was describing Daniel back in the day reminded her a lot of Hermione.

“Oh yeah,” Sirius agreed. “It was him and James who thought of becoming animagi. Two kids who couldn’t be more opposite, working tirelessly to help out one poor kid.”

“How do you mean, opposite?”

“Well…” Sirius looked as though he was thinking hard. “Your dad was a spoiled rich kid who pretty much got whatever he wanted. Daniel was from a working class family. Not quite Weasley level, but much closer to that end of the spectrum than my family or James’.”

Sirius smiled. “That was the kind of man your father was, though, Harriet,” he explained. “And Daniel still is. Yeah, Daniel cares about the rules and law, but he cares more about doing what’s right.”

“What about you?” Harriet asked.

“Me?” Sirius snorted. “I cared about fun. I cared about adventure. I cared about being my own man. I just happened to make some amazing friends along the way.”

Harriet looked over at Sirius. He wasn’t looking back at her, just staring at the ceiling. So Sirius had always been a bit of a loner and an outsider, it seemed. It sounded a bit like how Harriet often felt, now that she thought about it. She always felt like a bit of an outsider with her friends. They always had interesting things to talk about, and Harriet felt like she could never think of anything to say herself and so she would usually just listen until someone asked her something directly.

_Well, that part isn’t much like Sirius_ , Harriet thought. There was something else though, she considered as she studied her godfather. Had Professor McGonagall been right? Did Sirius like the same sorts of things she did?

Should she ask him? Harriet wasn’t sure. It felt like the wrong time, for one. For another… what if Professor McGonagall had been wrong? She had said nothing was ever proven. It was all just rumours, wasn’t it?

But then there was the time in the Shack. Sirius had tied her so much better than she’d ever managed to do on her own. Harriet suddenly blushed furiously and looked away. No, no she was not ready to talk about that yet. Maybe ever.

“You okay?” Sirius asked.

“Hm? Oh yeah,” Harriet said quickly. “Just thinking.”

Sirius smiled. “That’s good.”

“Thinking?”

“Generally advisable, yes,” Sirius laughed.

Harriet giggled in spite of herself. Sirius was giving her an odd sort of expression now. Harriet felt her face get tight and she looked around.

“What?” she asked.

Sirius shook his head. “You are so much like your mother. It’s incredible.”

This somehow did not make Harriet feel any less self-conscious. In fact, at that moment, something welled up in Harriet’s stomach and words surged out of her.

“Everyone tells me that, how much like my mother I am but I don’t know anything about her. I don’t know what that even means? Why am I so much like her? Why aren’t I like my dad? No one ever talks about him? What was wrong with him?”

Harriet now felt rather small as she caught her breath. She stole a sheepish glance at Sirius and saw that to her surprise, during her tirade he had moved into a proper sitting position and was looking down at Harriet with a very serious look indeed. He did not look angry, but he did look concerned.

“Nothing,” Sirius said. “Nothing at all was wrong with your father. Your father was a brave, caring, and loyal man who loved you and your mother more than life itself. Remus told me about experiences with the Dementors, Harriet.”

Harriet fought back a scowl.

“That tells you all you need to know about your father. Your father gave his life to save you and your mother. He loved you both that much.”

In the back of her mind, what Sirius was saying made sense. She understood what he was saying, and could tell by his tone that what he was saying was a good thing. Yet it didn’t feel that way. It didn’t feel that way at all.

“Well he should have won so we can all be together!” Harriet felt herself shout.

Sirius looked as though Harriet had slapped **him**. A deep mix of shame and even more anger surged through Harriet and she managed to swing herself out of the chair with surprising grace in her haste and was up the stairs and had slammed the door to her room shut. She didn’t go to her bed, or to her desk. Instead, she just slumped back against the door and slid to the floor.

She couldn’t cry, even though she expected herself to start. She was staring at the ceiling instead. She shouldn’t have shouted like that. Why had that made her so upset? Thinking about her parents had never really made her angry before. She was tired of people talking about her in odd tones about them, as though Harriet was a hollow egg-shell that would shatter into dust if they spoke too loudly.

There was a bump against the door. Harriet blinked looking at the handle. No one had tried the door.

“Gave your dragon a fright,” came Sirius’ voice from the other side of the door.

By the sound of it, he was sitting on the other side of the door from her. The bump must have been him leaning against the door. Harriet didn’t say anything. She’d forgotten that DIDS was on her stomach. She felt even guiltier now as she watched the little dragon squeeze its way under her door before scuttling off to curl up next to the heat vent under her desk by the window.

“I wish I knew of an easy way to talk about your parents, Harriet,” Sirius said. “I don’t imagine anyone does. The thing is, Harriet… most everyone who knew your parents fell in love with them. And when we have to talk about them… we have to remember. And I guess it’s difficult for us to remember sometimes that when we’re talking to you in particular…”

Sirius trailed off into silence. Harriet didn’t say anything, either. She felt just as speechless.

“We forget that we’re not talking to someone who had to deal with it all the same ways we did, and hasn’t had the time to deal with it properly, either. The only memories you get back of them are the sad ones. And it’s not fair of us to expect you to deal with it the same way.”

Harriet slowly looked back at the door.

“The thing is, Harriet,” Sirius said speaking again. “Your father was my best friend. The night he died… I was destroyed. I felt like I had nothing worth living for in the entire world.”

Harriet heard Sirius take a deep breath that had a slight quiver to it.

“Yeah… the point is… I wish he hadn’t died that night either. I would give anything to have him back. Because that was also the kind of person he was, Harriet. He was the kind of person who always made you feel like you could do anything. He was the kind of kid who helped another kid who hated his family feel like he belonged. He was the kid who helped a werewolf feel accepted. He was the kind of person who always pushed everyone around him to be better. Even when he was at his complete thickest, gittish-est, big-headedest worst… He was the kind of person who made you want to be a hero, too.”

Harriet slowly got to her feet. She turned and opened the door. Sirius was getting to his feet too. He looked down at her, dusting off his clothes. He opened his mouth to speak but Harriet didn’t give him a chance before hugging him. He hadn’t intended to make her feel the way she did; he had no idea what he’d just done. But as his words washed over Harriet, they mixed with the things Dora had told her at the Yule Ball. Finally, after all this time, beyond Quidditch, the black hair, the glasses, and a sense of adventure, Harriet knew what really, truly, made her just like her dad.

## * * * *

Sirius became the life of the house as the Christmas holidays wound down. He was perfectly happy to pour over decorating magazines with Aurora to give Daniel’s home a more lived in feeling. He delighted in helping Harriet, Nanette, and Rosie with their holiday homework. He had even taken over nightly reading duties from Harriet, which he took to with great revelry, putting on funny voices for all the characters.

Everyone else seemed happier too. Remus could often be heard whistling about the home as he cooked dinner or went downstairs into his basement shop. Daniel had a constant spring in his step everywhere he went as well. Aurora had seemed apprehensive at first, but it didn’t even take her two days to accept the fact that Sirius was here to stay.

In fact, the only time things seemed dull around the house was during Sirius’ bi-weekly check-ups down in St Mungo’s with Daniel. Daniel had been given more or less complete control of Sirius’ life until St Mungo’s, and the Ministry, determined he was mentally sound again.

It was the final week before returning to Hogwarts. Aurora was up at school getting ready for the start of term, while Daniel and Remus were at the shop. The girls were up in their room. Harriet was down in the sitting room, listening to music over the Wireless from Rathlin’s student run station. She kept listening, hoping to hear Finn.

However, Harriet didn’t hear him once. It was reassuring to hear Colm’s soothing, gentle voice, however. The effect was somewhat similar to Professor Binns’. Not that it was boring, it was more a soft and therapeutic effect. You just felt calm and placid when listening to him speak.

Sirius, meanwhile, was standing near the window. Apparently, Colm’s voice was having no effect on him. He kept peering out into the street, as though he was waiting for something.

“What’s up?” Harriet finally asked after the fifth time Sirius had done so that hour.

“Probably a giant mistake,” Sirius said under his breath.

“Huh?”

Sirius gave her a forced smile. “Let’s… just say I decided it was time to attempt to bury a hatchet.”

“Bury a hatchet?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said looking out the window once more.

At once, Sirius froze. His expression and rigid stance put Harriet in mind of a hunting dog that had just caught the scent of its quarry.

“Here he comes…” Sirius said finally. He turned and looked at Harriet.

“I want you in your room, understood. Tell the girls they’re not to come out, either. You’re not to come downstairs no matter what you hear, do you understand—”

“But?”

“ _Do you understand_?”

Sirius’ tone was so stern that Harriet got out of her chair and hurried upstairs at once. She paused and opened the door to Nanette and Rosie’s room.

“Yes, Harriet?” Nanette asked.

Harriet was about to speak when the spectacle of the scene finally broke through her distraction. Hedwig was sitting on the floor between the girls. Hedwig gave a cooing hoot and puffed out her chest feathers which Harriet now realized had been turned from white to glittering gold, and her wings into a soft lavender. All around her on the floor was the make-up sets the girls had received for Christmas.

“Wha…?” Harriet asked, a bit slack jawed as she pointed at Hedwig.

Rosie shrugged. “We wanted to know if the charms worked on feathers. They do.”

Harriet felt her anger rising. “So you just kidnapped my owl without—”

“Well, you were busy with Sirius, we thought,” Nanette said, sounding a little disappointed.

“So we just asked Hedwig,” Rosie added. “And she flew right into our room. So we didn’t _kidnap_ her.”

Harriet felt her jaw fall even more open. She looked down at Hedwig.

“Is that true?” she asked.

Hedwig gave a hoot and fluffed out her golden chest to the fluffiest Harriet had ever seen it.

Harriet gave a sigh of defeat. “Whatever… anyway, umm, Sirius has a visitor I guess… he said to stay in our rooms until it’s done, and not to come out no matter what we hear.”

“Okay,” Nanette said. “Should we wear our battle helmets?”

“Your wha—” Harriet reconsidered. “—never mind. Anyway, he’ll let us know when it’s time to come out.”

The girls nodded and Harriet hurried into her room. She was just about to shut her door when the doorbell rang. She heard the sound of Sirius’ footsteps approaching the door as she hesitated, listening.

“Door shut,” she heard Sirius call.

Harriet glowered and shut the door. She hesitated again, thinking. She knew Sirius didn’t want her to listen, but something about this was much too fishy. Did Daniel know about this? Harriet doubted it.

She put her ear to the door. She could hear voices dimly. She couldn’t make out any words, but there was no mistaking the terse tones. Harriet closed her eyes and hoped.

_Yes_ , Harriet thought as she heard the voices move into the kitchen instead of the sitting room. Sirius and whoever it was were right underneath her room.

Harriet crept to her desk under her window. She slowly pulled out her desk chair, laid down on the floor, and lowered her ear to the floor grate for the heating duct that also connected to the kitchen. After a moment’s focusing, she heard the voices clearly.

“Didn’t think you’d accept,” she heard Sirius say, his voice tinny-sounding through the duct.

“It was my first impulse to decline, yes.”

Harriet started before clamping a hand over her mouth. She just managed to stop herself from calling out. She knew that voice, it was unmistakable. It was the dark, brooding voice of Professor Snape.

“Why’d you say yes?” Sirius asked.

Professor Snape didn’t respond. Or at least, he didn’t respond verbally. All Harriet heard was the sound of something being slid across the top of the table.

“Wow,” Sirius said. “Didn’t think you’d agree to that either.”

“Rest assured, I did not do it for you,” Professor Snape replied, coldly as ever.

Another awkward silence fell over the room.

“So, I suppose you want to know why I asked you here?” Sirius asked. “Besides our little secret here.”

“You think you can make amends for the past,” Professor Snape said lazily. “I’m no idiot.”

There was another pause. Even through the vent, Harriet could tell Sirius was biting his tongue.

“No… even I will grant you that,” Sirius said.

More silence.

“Well,” Sirius spoke up. “You are right. I have had a lot of time to think over this past year. While I know why you and James never got on, it wasn’t my place to take part in all that.”

“No, I don’t suppose it was.”

“Well, no. Anyway, I guess what I want to say is… now that things are settled… now that my name is cleared… It’s time to put the past behind us, and it’s time to be adults about things.”

Sirius paused again. Harriet could tell that it was paining Sirius greatly to say what he was about to say.

“I’m sorry, Severus.”

Harriet’s eyes went wide. After the hatred she’d seen in their eyes the previous summer, Harriet didn’t think she’d ever hear Sirius say that. By the sound of it (or lack thereof) Professor Snape hadn’t expected it either.

“For every hex, jinx, curse… everything.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Harriet’s ear was starting to hurt where she pressed it against the grate, so she quickly changed ears, not wanting to miss anything.

“I see. And what do you expect in return for this newfound remorse?” Professor Snape asked. “Forgiveness? Peace of mind?”

“No,” Sirius said, flatly.

“Then what?”

“I want you to be nice to Harriet.”

Harriet raised her head now, staring down at the grate.

“What do you mean?” Professor Snape asked.

“And her friends,” Sirius added. “I’ve heard things… even under house arrest. Harriet tries in your class and you ignore her. Sure, she’s James’ daughter, but she’s a good kid, and she’s just as much Lily’s. You two _used_ to be friends didn’t you?”

Now Harriet’s other ear was starting to hurt. Her eyes were starting to water as well, as she was too shocked to blink. Professor Snape and her mother used to be friends?

“I was under the impression I was already helping Miss Potter.”

“Well, here’s what happens when you give a mouse a cookie,” Sirius said. “But this is about you not taking out your anger with me on her. She has nothing to do with what happened between you and me in the past.”

“No… I suppose she does not…” Professor Snape agreed. “Potter has performed adequately in Potions,” Professor Snape said. “But she has a long way to go. Lately her work has left a great deal to be desired.”

“Well, maybe helping her out instead of ignoring her would get her a bit more interested and a bit less apathetic, wouldn’t it?” Sirius retorted. “Maybe her Potions Master not giving her the time of day has something to do with it?”

Harriet felt her cheeks going rather red now. She was starting to regret listening in. However, she couldn’t stop herself now.

“Very well,” Professor Snape said.

“We have an accord?”

“Yes. Does that satisfy you?”

“Yes,” Sirius agreed. “Harriet is my goddaughter. Her safety and happiness are all that matters to me now, and I’ll do anything to assure it.”

“Even setting aside your considerable pride?”

“Yes,” Sirius said, his voice sounding a little bitter.

There was another long silence. Finally, Harriet heard the sound of two chairs being pushed back as the men stood.

“We have a deal then,” Professor Snape said.

Harriet couldn’t help but notice that despite their coming to some kind of agreement, neither Professor Snape nor Sirius sounded all that pleased.

“We have a deal,” Sirius agreed.

She heard footsteps now. Professor Snape was leaving. Harriet listened, but neither man said anything else as she heard the front door open.

Harriet hurried over and as quietly as she could to crack open her bedroom door.

“Remember to tell Potter the effect only lasts an hour,” Professor Snape said. “And that should give her enough time—provided she doesn’t get lost.”

“I will,” Sirius said.

There was the sound of Professor Snape’s feet on the front step but he stopped yet again.

“Black,” Professor Snape said.

“Yes?”

“Is it true? You were framed by Pettigrew? It was him who actually… who murdered all those people?”

“Yes…?” Sirius replied, sounding just as confused as Harriet felt.

“I see.”

No one said anything else. Instead, there was the sound of the front door shutting. Harriet immediately shut her door as quietly as she could and quickly flopped onto her bed, picking up her Transfiguration book from the bedside table and started pretending to read.

After a couple of minutes, she heard the creaking of Sirius ascending the stairs and him knock on her door.

“Alright,” Sirius called. “All clear. No fireworks after all. False alarm.”

Harriet got back off her bed and walked over to open the door.

“What was that about?” she asked at once.

Sirius chuckled. “Oh, like I said, burying a hatchet… at least I think I did. I got what I really wanted anyway.”

“What’s that?”

“Everything okay?” came Nanette’s voice from their bedroom door.

Harriet leaned out and looked, just managing to stifle a laugh. Both of the twins were wearing shiny aluminium colanders on their heads. Hedwig fluttered out of the room and swooped silently over Harriet’s head into her room. Harriet noted that Hedwig was back to her usual white self.

“Yes, girls,” Sirius laughed before returning his attention to Harriet. “Listen, about the second task…”

Harriet felt her throat tighten. Was Sirius about to give her what Professor Snape had given him?

“Daniel explained how we can’t help you out _too_ much with the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Some rubbish about not making it seem like you’re getting through too easily. At least, that’s Dumbledore’s plan.”

Sirius scowled a little looking off in the distance. “I don’t know; this is all stupidly complicated. Anyway, all I’ll say is this. If it comes down to it, if the second task comes and you haven’t quite figured it out yet—again this is an _if_ —but if you haven’t, send Hedwig to me—”

“Well I figured out it’s mermaids, and they’re going to take something of mine.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent. But that’s not all. There’s another part of the challenge: getting back what was taken. If you haven’t figured out how to do that by the night before the task, send Hedwig. I’ll send her back with something guaranteed to help you. Something that might give you the edge to win.”

“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Harriet asked.

Sirius smirked. “Oh a little. But you can be damned sure the others will as well. Still, promise me: if you don’t figure it out, send Hedwig.”

Harriet looked up at Sirius’ face, considering. She certainly wanted to win, but she didn’t know why that felt so much like cheating. Then again, Hagrid had helped her cheat in the first task by showing her the dragons ahead of time. However, that time Hagrid had just told her it was a “surprise,” it wasn’t blatantly telling her to cheat.

Sirius’ grin grew. “Besides, showing up all those big kids has to have its upsides as well, doesn’t it?”

Harriet blushed, but Fleur’s words from the night the Goblet of Fire chose the champions came to her mind.

_“Zey say zat zis_ little girl _is to compete also!”_

Harriet felt her resolution steel itself at once. She’d show them all, once and for all. She looked up at Sirius and nodded.

“Okay,” she said firmly. “I promise.”


	27. The Beast from the Flames

“Within all of us is an entity of a great, but terrible power. It is not uniform from person to person, but the only measure of control one can hope to have over it is to accept that they are one with that darkness.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

It was Harriet’s first night back in Hogwarts after the holidays. As she sat on her four-poster bed, she couldn’t help but feel something was not quite right. By that, she meant that it seemed as though nothing was wrong at all. Her friends had been perfectly normal when she re-entered the school. All the awkwardness that had followed the Yule Ball seemed gone. Ronnie and Dora had even gone back to their usual sniping.

Even now, all around her, everyone was quietly getting ready for bed. However, there wasn’t the usual excited gossip over what everyone did on their holidays. No one was talking with mixed dread and excitement over what classes were going to be like the next day.

“So how was your Christmas with _Daaaaaa_ niel?” Rachel asked, sitting next to Harriet. She sporting the toothy grin she always wore whenever she was excited to talk about something.

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Harriet said eagerly. She wasn’t sure why exactly she was so eager to discuss the details of her Christmas holiday now. Normally she didn’t really care for talking about her personal life at all. At the moment, however, she was aching to give away as many details as she could.

“I bet, what with living with Sirius Black and Professor Sinistra and the girls moving in and all,” Rachel said in a would-be casual voice, her brown eyes twinkling.

Harriet smiled a little. “Lemme guess, Nanette told you?”

“Pff, duh,” Rachel said. “It’s all she and Rosie have been talking about all day; telling everyone how awesome it was to live with Harriet Potter for a month.”

Harriet rolled her eyes though her smile increased. She remembered Sirius telling her how the twins would probably remember it for the rest of their lives.

Harriet filled Rachel in on the rest of the details of her Christmas away from Hogwarts. As she did, she realized part of what it was that felt wrong about the scene. For once, she hadn’t stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays, but everyone else had. No one else had anything exciting to talk about, because they had probably already talked about it all while she wasn’t there.

Having caught up with Rachel, Harriet looked around the room again. Her eyes fell on Tori who was pinning up some photographs next to her bed. Harriet then remembered that she was not the only one who had spent the holidays away from Hogwarts. She rose and walked over.

“Hey,” Harriet said sitting next to Tori. “Holiday memories?”

“Yeah,” Tori giggled, leaning back so Harriet could see.

Most of the photographs were of Tori and her parents, but there were also a few of her and Chris Jerome as well.

“Have they gone back to America yet?” Harriet asked.

“Dad has,” Tori replied. “Mom’s still in Hogsmeade. She’ll go back on the first.”

Harriet looked up at the taller girl’s face. She was still looking at the photographs, beaming with pride. Harriet felt her smile grow.

“Who’s that?” Harriet asked, pointing to one of her father shaking the hand of a stocky Japanese man. The setting looked very official, with the flag of the Magical United States serving as the backdrop. The man himself had white hair, a small, neatly trimmed goatee, and a ponytail. He looked quite cheerful as the two men smiled at each other.

“That’s President Shensuken,” Tori explained. “That was the award ceremony at the Capital after dad led us out of the US to save us from the attack.”

Tori looked as though she was about to burst with pride as she looked at the picture.

“He looks friendly,” Harriet said, meaning the President. “Way cooler than Fudge.”

“He is,” Tori said. “So glad he’s our President.”

From across the room, AJ snorted. Tori scowled over at her. AJ meanwhile was pretending not to notice Tori watching her.

Tori rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she said, stiffly, before looking at Harriet’s shoulder and smiling. “You’ve still got your dragon?”

Harriet looked at her shoulder where DIDS was perched. He didn’t necessarily like riding on her shoulder; he couldn’t sleep there very well, but he seemed to put up with her perching him there anyway. DIDS hissed at Tori and flapped his wings grumpily.

“Yeah,” Harriet giggled, scooping up the little dragon and setting him down on Tori’s bed. “I named him DIDS, D-I-D-S, for Dragon of Diminutive Size.”

“Awwww,” Tori cooed. “That’s—wait…”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Shouldn’t that be DODS?”

Harriet blinked, then felt really stupid.    

“Oh, yeah, you’re right…” Harriet said awkwardly. “Though I don’t know if he’ll answer to anything else now… not that he really listens to me anyway.”

Tori laughed. “That’s okay, I think DIDS is cuter than DODS anyway.”

DIDS gave a tiny snort of smoke, snuffling around the comforter on Tori’s bed. Harriet scooped DIDS back up and returned to her bed. It was as she got ready to climb into her four-poster that what that problem was finally hit her. Sliding under the covers, looking at the ceiling of her four-poster, listening to the voices, she knew what felt so different. For the first time since Harriet had started school, there was somewhere else she wanted to be besides Hogwarts.

## * * * *

The out of place feeling did not go away with the start classes the next day. Harriet was so distracted in Herbology that she only narrowly avoided getting grabbed by the Venomous Tentacula. She was saved at the last moment by Jeremy who stamped on the plant’s vine as it started to curl around her ankle.

“Thanks,” Harriet muttered appreciatively.

“Don’t mention it,” Jeremy replied cheerfully.

Harriet blinked, looking up into his glowing face then looking at the date on her watch. Since getting to know Remus as well as she did, Harriet had become very conscious of the lunar cycles. It was a full moon tonight, yet Jeremy no longer looked gaunt and frail as he used to.

Jeremy seemed to know what she was thinking. He leaned down low to whisper to her.

“I’m finally getting used to it,” he hissed as Professor Sprout passed. “It’s been two years since my first transformation. They finally don’t bug me so much. Pretty awesome.”

Harriet smiled in reply, but she still moved to the other side of the table so she could keep the hungry plant in sight for the rest of class.

With the end of Herbology, they made their way down to Care of Magical Creatures. Trudging through the snow, no one was particularly thrilled about this. At least the greenhouses had been heated.

“Well,” Ronnie said. “At least the Skrewts might keep us warm.”

“How?” Hermione asked, shivering.

“We’ll get warm when they chase us around the grounds, or when they blast off—” Ronnie said then sighed bitterly “—or if they finally set Hagrid’s cabin on fire…”

As they reached Hagrid’s hut, it didn’t look like Hagrid was there yet. There was a whiff of smoke coming from the chimney, and Fang was barking inside.

“Ready, Hagrid?” Harriet asked, knocking on the door.

She stepped back from the door, smiling. At least she could count on Hagrid to cheer her up.

No one answered.

“Maybe he’s keeping Fang inside, cuz of the Skrewts?” Kieran asked.

“I hope they didn’t finally become too much for him,” Hermione said worriedly. “If they get too much for Hagrid…”

“Ah, there you all are,” said a voice Harriet didn’t recognize.

The class turned to see a man walking towards them. Harriet thought she recognized the man, but she couldn’t think of where she had seen him. As he neared she realized it was the man who had been chatting with Professor Dumbledore at the Yule Ball. Fred told her his name was Nick Sutler.

Sutler was smiling as he approached. Harriet noted that he wasn’t even wearing robes. Instead, he was wearing an OD green peacoat, the off-white collar of a button-up shirt just visible underneath. He was also wearing thick khaki pants that looked ideal for hiking and brown hiking boots. Over his shoulder was a ratty, brown pack.

“Uh, hello,” he said as he reached them. He seemed uncomfortable as he looked around at the gathered Gryffindors. “Professor Nick Sutler, your—uh—temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher, I suppose.”

Harriet’s face fell. _Temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher? What was wrong with Hagrid?_

“Sir, what’s wrong with Hagrid?” Harriet asked.

“Ah,” Professor Sutler said, looking at Hagrid’s hut and running a hand through his hair. “Temporarily indisposed. I’m only stepping in because Professor Dumbledore asked me to while he helps me work on something—er…”

He looked around at them all with an expression that clearly showed he’d said too much.

“—special. Anyway, if—uh—you’ll all follow me, we’ll get started.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Slytherins?” Marcus suggested as Professor Sutler headed back the direction he’d come.

“Right!” Professor Sutler said, stopping and turning back around. “Right! Two houses at once! You’re right, Mister…?”

“Van Der Lakk,” Parvati answered for him.

Harriet blinked looking at Parvati. Her head was tilted a little, and her eyes looked a little glossed over. Then Harriet saw that Lavender had the same expression. Harriet was about to roll her eyes, when she noted that the pair were far from alone. Hermione, Rachel, Basheera, and even Tori and AJ were all looking up at Professor Sutler as though he was made of solid gold.

Harriet looked around at Ronnie now. Ronnie simply shrugged. Harriet looked back at Professor Sutler. She glowered a little and crossed her arms. Where was Hagrid? Who was this new person who Professor Dumbledore just tossed in to take Hagrid’s place? Standing there looking so charmingly awkward, with his stupid blonde hair, that square, chiselled jawline, those glittering blue eyes, and those broad, strong looking shoulders.

The sound of sniggering brought Harriet back to her senses. She looked around to see the Slytherins finally approaching. In the front was Pansy Parkinson, Pixie Fanfarró, and Blaise Zabini; their eyes fixed on Hagrid’s cabin with apparent glee. Behind them, Dora’s Slytherin friends were giving the trio a very unpleasant look that filled Harriet with foreboding.

“Ah, there we are,” Professor Sutler said, sounding more cheerful. “Right this way everyone! No time to delay!”

Professor Sutler began to lead them away from Hagrid’s cabin in the direction of the paddock where he had shown them the Hippogriffs the year before.

“Well, he seems eager enough,” Marcus said quietly as they moved along. “If a little scatter-brained.”

“Yeah,” Kieran agreed. “He must be happy to teach again.”

Harriet sniffed.

“Hey,” Dora whispered as she caught up with Harriet. “Got to tell you something you’re not going to like…”

“Is it about Hagrid?” Harriet asked at once.

“Yes,” Dora replied. “Puginson and Fanfucko have been crowing about it all morning, ever since the post came.”

“Ooooooo,” Dora’s friend Sae Miyazawa cooed.

Harriet’s jaw fell open. It was one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen, and that included unicorns. It was a tall, magnificent deer. Its coat was a reddish-brown, fading into an off-white that ran along its belly, up its neck to its chin. Its long ears were flicking about, and its black eyes studied each of the students as they approached. Its black nose was twitching as it sniffed the air. But that wasn’t the most magnificent part. What stood out was the tall, branching golden antlers, and glittering bronze hooves.

“Meet _Cervus elaphus ceryneiansis_ ,” Professor Sutler said, grunting as he slung his pack off his shoulder and set it against the fence, “a Ceryneian red stag, usually just called a Ceryneian. Specifically, this is a female, or a hind.”

There was a wave of “ooos” and “ahhhs” from the gathered students. Even Pansy and Pixie looked as though they had forgotten about whatever it was that had given them such glee at the start of class. Blaise however remained dubious, muttering with Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Miss…?”

“Granger, sir,” Hermione said, sounding a little breathless. “When you say Ceryneian, do you mean as in the Ceryneian hind from the trials of Heracles?”

Professor Sutler smiled in a way that even made Harriet’s knees a little weak.

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger! Yes! Someone is certainly up on her Greek myths. Stratton’s doing his job, eh? Yes, this is the creature at the heart of the very same legend.”

Hermione beamed. Dora’s friend, Courtney Waterman, raised her hand now.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Waterman, sir.”

“Ah! You’re one of the Americans then,” Professor Sutler observed cheerfully.

“Yes, sir,” Courtney replied. “You say it’s a female, but… I thought only male deer had antlers.”

“Excellent point,” Professor Sutler said. “In general, they do, though as with all of nature—and reality in general—there are exceptions. The most well-known exception would be reindeer and caribou—though that’s splitting hairs—but that’s just part of what makes the Ceryneians so special. Both males and females grow antlers, though the females’ antlers are not quite so large as the males’.”

Hermione nodded and quickly jotted that down in her notes.

Dora raised her hand now.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Flamel. Why would these females have antlers when most don’t?”

“Very good question!” Professor Sutler replied. “In their cousin the reindeer, antlers prove useful for clearing snow and for defence. Not just physical defence, but visually as well. It’s more difficult to differentiate males from females in a reindeer population. This makes it more difficult for predators to differentiate between members of the herd. However, from what we read in ancient Greek texts, none of these factors are why the Ceryneian stag hinds have antlers.”

“Then why?” Dora asked, frustrated that her question was not answered outright.

“Well, in creatures like the reindeer, their qualities are driven by biological evolution—a rather complex system that would require many more lectures than today to give anyone a proper understanding—but I will try and simplify it as best I can.”

Professor Sutler thought hard for a few moments before speaking. “Well, let’s stick with reindeer. Say there is a female who has a gene mutation that produces antlers. This female survives her first winter, and by her second winter when she’s old enough to grow in her antlers was better able to clear away snow in the winter, and so could access more food. This is what we call natural selection. As a result, she was able to produce healthier offspring, who also carried that gene.”

The class listened, noting this down.

“Now, say her first offspring is a male. This male carries that same gene, as we get half our genes from one parent and half from the other. Because this male calf’s mother was better able to survive the winter, when he reached sexual maturity, he was much healthier and so more attractive to the rest of the herd’s females—”

Professor Sutler paused looking around. “Sorry, is everyone with me so far?”

There was some general murmuring of assent.

“Excellent. So, more females consent to mate with this young bull. That’s something we call sexual selection, it’s similar to natural selection but there’s a conscious decision on the part of the organisms. It’s why birds often sing such beautiful songs or have such beautiful plumage. Anyway, come the following summer, more calves are born to the herd who carry this gene. Now, not all of these calves will survive, but they have a higher chance of it. And because they have a higher chance of survival, they have a higher chance of going on to have more offspring of their own with the gene. And that will grow and grow in the yearly mating cycles until eventually, you get a population where all the females have antlers. Then this population will run into other herds and cross-breeding will occur, and that advantageous mutation will spread to those herds as well.”

The class continued to take down the notes.

“That’s one of the big misnomers of the original theory: the phrase ‘survival of the fittest.’ It doesn’t necessarily mean ‘bigger and stronger,’ it just means better able to survive and reproduce. For humans, our abilities to not only create tools but also work together in social groups made us fitter to survive and dominate most of the Earth’s landscape, even though we’re far from the ‘biggest and the strongest.’

“There are some in our magical world who like to think that way, though. Take the arguments that wizards are better than Muggles because wizards have magic. Yet, look at how truly industrious Muggles are. They build massive, sprawling cities full of millions of people without a hint of magic. They produce culture and art. Muggles are amazing.”

There were some quiet mutterings from the Slytherins at this, but Professor Sutler either didn’t hear them, or ignored them.

“Sorry, I’m getting way off track now. Easy to do when you’re talking about your passions, eh? Anyway, that was all _very_ simplified of course,” Professor Sutler continued. “Just trying to give the roughest of overviews of the theory. Getting back to the Ceryneians, we know that isn’t what happened. Can anyone guess why?”

The class was silent now. Harriet was surprised to see that even Hermione seemed stumped. Finally, Thomas Wright of Slytherin raised his hand.

“Yes, Mister…?”

“Wright, sir.”

“Wright. Go ahead.”

“They were bred that way?”

Professor Sutler looked as though he was going to leap into the air with joy.

“Yes, Mister Wright, yes! The Ceryneian was bred specifically for its golden horns, and sport. This is called selective breeding, and it’s how we have so many breeds of dogs, for instance. The ancient Greeks selectively bred Ceryneians for bloodlines where the females had antlers—yes, Miss Granger?”

“But, why would they breed for the females to have antlers?”

“Well, if you find something like golden antlers valuable, you get a lot more of them if both the males and females can grow antlers.”

“That’s horrible,” Sae Miyazawa said.

“Oh not really,” Professor Sutler chuckled. “At least not that part. Stag shed their antlers annually. So all the Greeks had to do was just wait and collect the antlers after they were shed. As for the speed, the Greeks bred them faster and faster—in every case aided by magic, of course. That’s how it found its way into the legend of Heracles. It was supposed to be an animal impossible to catch.”

Blaise Zabini snorted. “Oh gee, another Greek animal that can run really fast; surprise, surprise.”

Harriet expected Professor Sutler to look angry or annoyed, but instead he simply laughed. He seemed completely at ease now, as though nothing was making him happier than explaining the beautiful animal to them.

“Yes, I had the chance to meet Epeius. Marvellous conversation we had about his race. Anyway, ‘another Greek animal that can run really fast’ you say?” Professor Sutler smiled leaning on the fence of the paddock. “Maybe ask yourself, lad, as to why exactly it is that Areions _can_ run so fast?”

Blaise looked a little dumbstruck. “Uhhh…”

Professor Sutler continued to smile. Hermione’s hand shot into the air again but Professor Sutler waved her down.

“Now, now, Miss Granger, give him a chance,” Professor Sutler said.

Blaise shot Hermione a furious glare before looking back at Professor Sutler. He was thinking hard when suddenly Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the silence.

“They were bred to hunt them, of course!” Draco said irritably. “Seriously!”

Giggling passed over the group. Harriet saw that Draco was standing near the back, conspicuously alone. Professor Sutler’s smile became forced for a moment and he held up a hand for quiet.

“Ah, a bit out of turn there—but yes, that is correct,” Professor Sutler said. “One of the reasons the Areions were bred was to hunt Ceryneians. That’s why I had to ask that Epeius keep well away from the paddock today, as Ceryneians tend to panic at the sight of horses.”

“I wondered where he was,” Jackson Lee muttered.

“Can we touch it…?” Parvati asked, changing the subject completely while looking at the hind hopefully.

“Well, yes and no,” Professor Sutler said.

He walked further down the fence and picked up a heavy bucket. He carried it back to them and Harriet saw that it was filled with dried kernels of corn.

“Ceryneians are very skittish. However, this is one of their favourite treats,” Professor Sutler said. “One by one, take a handful and hold it out. Let her come to you and decide whether or not she wants to eat. Keep your hand very still, and don’t move until she’s done. Then back away slowly. They also like it if you hum softly. Happy little tunes; it soothes them.”

The class got into line and took handfuls of corn to hold out for the hind. Harriet couldn’t help but giggle when it was her turn. The hind’s nose was very smooth and soft, and its lips tickled as it nibbled the corn off her palm. She looked over its coat, which looked soft, and so fine it didn’t even look like fur.

As they fed the hind, Professor Sutler went on to give his lecture in proper on the nature of the Ceryneian deer; their shrinking range in the Mediterranean from the encroachment of human settlements, their behaviour, and so on. Harriet listened, but now that she was done feeding, she couldn’t help once again feeling distracted, and distinctly worried, about Hagrid.

Finally, the bell rang up at the castle to signal the end of class. Professor Sutler sent them off with his newfound cheer. The other girls kept stealing glances back at him as they made their way back up to the school.

“That was an excellent lesson!” Hermione said. “I hardly knew anything about the Ceryneian stag. A fascinating species—”

“What about Hagrid though?” Harriet asked, cutting her off.

“Here,” Dora said, sounding a little miserable as she held out a page of the _Daily Prophet_ to Harriet.

Harriet took it and felt her jaw clench. At the top of the featured article was a picture of Hagrid looking shifty and awkward. Everyone gathered around as Harriet began to read out loud.

 

_“DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE_

_“Albus Dumbledore, eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes_ Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent _. In September of last year, he hired Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence.”_

 

“Well… she’s not entirely wrong about that,” Marcus admitted grudgingly.

 

“ _Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.”_

 

“What?!” Ronnie said, aghast.

“Shhhh,” Hermione hushed.

 

“ _Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore.”_

“Funny how she leaves out the fact that Hagrid was pardoned,” Dora growled.

 

_“Prior to the start of the 1993-1994 school year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_“An alarmingly large and ferocious looking man—”_

“Oh, you hag!” Hermione hissed now.

 

_“—Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be ‘very frightening.’_

_“‘I was attacked by a Hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a Flobberworm,’ says Blaise Zabini, a fourth year student.”_

“Blaise?!” Marcus gasped, sounding enraged. “He’s taking credit for what happened to Malfoy?!”

“Flobberworms don’t even have teeth!” Kieran said joining in the outrage.

Harriet felt her hands clenching but she read on.

 

“ _Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In a conversation with a_ Daily Prophet _reporter last month—”_

 

“I’m done,” Marcus growled, pacing. “I can’t listen to anymore.”

“She doesn’t even have the courage to admit she was the one who did the interview!” Ronnie shouted in disbelief.

Harriet lowered the paper in disgust. Hermione took it and began reading in Harriet’s stead. This time, no one spoke, just listened miserably as Hermione read.

 

“— _he admitted to breeding creatures he has dubbed ‘Blast-Ended Skrewts,’ highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creatures is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions._

_“‘I was just having some fun,’ he says before hastily changing the subject._

_“As if this were not enough, the_ Daily Prophet _has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not—as he has always pretended—not a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

_“Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass-Muggle killings of his reign of terror._

_“While many of the giants who served He Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics in Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_“In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the girl who brought about You-Know-Who’s fall from power—thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harriet Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about her large friend—but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harriet Potter, along with her fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.”_

 

Hermione’s hands were now shaking as she looked up at them from the paper. However, the first question out of Hermione’s mouth wasn’t what Harriet expected.

“How did that horrible woman find out?” Hermione asked. “You don’t think Hagrid _told_ her?”

“No,” Harriet said, hugging her crossed arms even tighter. “He never even told _us_. I’m betting you she got mad he wouldn’t tell her horrible stuff about me so she went ferreting around to get back at him.”

“Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball?” Hermione suggested.

“I’d have seen her,” Marcus said. “I was right there with Jackson. Besides, Professor Dumbledore banned her from the grounds, remember?”

“Maybe she has an invisibility cloak,” Harriet added.

“Maybe,” Dora agreed.

“We have to go talk to him,” Kieran said with uncharacteristic determination.

He turned and at once set off for Hagrid’s cabin. The rest hurried to catch up with him, not just from their determination to talk to Hagrid too, but also because of Kieran. He was still a bit ungainly in his brace, and was liable to fall in the thick snow if he moved too fast.

Harriet hustled past Kieran as they reached the cabin. She pounded as hard as she could on his door.

“Hagrid, it’s us!” Harriet called. “Open up!”

There was no answer. Fang was scratching on the other side of the door, whining and barking. Yet there came no answer from Hagrid.

They spent another ten minutes trying to get Hagrid to answer. Ronnie, as the tallest, tried peeking into the windows but it was all in vain.

“What’s he avoiding us for?” Hermione asked after they finally gave up and returned to the school for lunch. “Surely he doesn’t think that we’d care he’s a half-giant?”

They entered the school and took their seats at the Gryffindor table. Scott hurried over to them, looking excited.

“Wow, have you guys had Magical Creatures with Sutler yet? Isn’t he something? Hermione, did you know all that stuff about Ceryneian stag that he did? Its fur was so soft and smooth, too! I can see why the Ancient Greeks valued it so—”

Scott cut himself off looking around the group, who were all giving him incredulous looks.

“What?” he asked, obliviously.

“You actually got to touch it?” Ronnie asked.

Scott was about to answer when Hermione rolled her eyes and slid the article over to him.

“This,” Hermione said.

Scott read, his jaw falling open. He looked up at them all again and parroted Hermione’s question. “How did Skeeter find out?”

“No idea,” Kieran said. “But Hagrid’s barricaded himself in his hut and won’t come out.”

Scott looked down at the paper miserably. “Wow, I didn’t know… I feel a right git now.”

“Well, you can’t blame yourself for what you didn’t know,” Hermione said. “And to be fair, it was a very good lesson.”

Harriet grumbled as she took a bite of chicken, unable to deny to herself that yes, it was a very good lesson indeed.

## * * * *

By the middle of the week, things weren’t getting much better. She tried to say hello to Angelina Johnson, but Angelina just walked past Harriet as if she wasn’t even there. Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet were being very brusque with Harriet as well. Even stranger, for some reason the three were ignoring Erica Quoy too.

She also had a difficult time in Astronomy. She was having a terrible time referring to Aurora as Professor Sinistra again. To top it off, she felt even more anxious than usual about doing a good job in the class. Somehow, knowing Aurora as personally as she did now made her approval mean more to Harriet than it ever had before.

However, in an ironic twist, one of the improvements that Harriet noticed turned out to be the twins. They didn’t hound her, or try to talk to her all the time, but they would always say hello to her in the hallways or the common room. Seeing them always made Harriet think of her time at Daniel’s. Even the times she’d been annoyed with them brought a smile to her face, such as the sight of Hedwig turned pink and gold.

The next bit of awkwardness that week came during double Potions. So much had happened during the week that Harriet had quite forgotten about Professor Snape’s secret visit to Daniel’s house, and his promise to Sirius that he would be nicer to her in exchange for Sirius’ apology. So it was to the general astonishment of the class when Professor Snape passed Harriet’s cauldron at the end of class.

“Satisfactory,” Professor Snape said. He sounded as though the words were costing him a great deal. “Barely… satisfactory. I expect better next week.”

Professor Snape moved on to Hermione’s, merely glancing into it before moving to the next table. Pansy, Pixie and Blaise were looking at Professor Snape as though he’d just told them he’d eviscerated their cats. Dora was looking at Harriet as though she’d just been slapped out of sleep. The only person who wasn’t reacting was Draco Malfoy, who was sitting in his corner, clearing away his things after Professor Snape had given him another perfect grade, as usual.

To make matters worse, Hagrid did not return to class all week. He didn’t turn up to meals, and he wasn’t carrying out his game keeping duties. Professor Sutler continued teaching Care of Magical Creatures, each lesson even more irritatingly interesting than the last. Furthermore, with each lesson, Professor Sutler’s enthusiasm grew and grew. The final class of the week, which was held in one of the greenhouses, was proving to be the worst of all.

The creatures Professor Sutler brought in were incredibly fascinating to Harriet: the Golden Snidget. They were tiny golden birds with perfectly round bodies, little fluffy heads with long thin beaks, and bright red, jewel-like eyes. They zipped around everyone’s heads with ease, giving soft buzzing noises that Harriet knew too well. They looked and sounded exactly like Golden Snitches. They could even change direction instantly as Snitches could, moving in ways that would make hummingbirds look as though they were standing still.

“Correct, Miss Potter!” Professor Sutler said when Harriet pointed this out. “The Snidget was in fact the catalyst for the creation of the Golden Snitch. Once upon a time, the Snidget was used in Quidditch in the role now taken by the Golden Snitch.”

“That’s awful!” Parvati said, sounding aghast.

“Yeah, it wasn’t quite as enlightened a time,” Professor Sutler said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Fortunately, Snidgets are protected now.”

“Good,” Damien Mallory said, indignantly.

“Even worse, most Snidgets caught during Quidditch matches died,” Sutler went on. “They’re very fragile creatures; incredibly brittle bones. But that might not even be the worst…”

Parvati and Lavender both looked horrified.

“What hurt the Snidget populations the most was the fashion industry. Their feathers were prized for use in hats and purses, and their eyes were often used in jewellery.”

“ _Jewellery_?” Rachel asked, now sharing Parvati and Lavender’s tone of disgust.

Harriet couldn’t help but feel the same way. Looking around the greenhouse, everyone else seemed to share the outrage, even most of the Slytherins.

“Yeah,” Professor Sutler said, sighing as he watched one bury its long nose into a flower. “They almost went extinct. Fortunately, wizard kind realized the danger and now Snidgets are protected. It’s illegal to own one, to catch one, or harm one in any way. These I got on loan from the Modesty Rabnott Snidget Reservation.”

“How could anyone ever think of hurting one?” Hermione said in a tiny voice as she watched one of the little Snidgets settle on a vine and make itself even fluffier as it preened its feathers.

Professor Sutler gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. “Sometimes… things that come at you with a smile, wear it to hide the monster within, and sometimes the things that come at you with fangs do it to protect a heart of gold.”

The room went very quiet at this.

“What do you mean, sir?” Draco asked.

Professor Sutler chuckled. “What I mean is sometimes things that look like angels are monsters, and vice-versa. Normal, everyday people for centuries thought it was perfectly fine to end the life of one of these little creatures for the sake of a game. They bred Ceryneian stags for sport. People are now saying terrible things about Professor Hagrid, whom I’m filling in for.”

The room went very quiet at this.

“But anyone who’s truly met him knows he has a heart of gold.”

Harriet looked up at Professor Sutler with astonishment. She’d spent all week hating him for usurping Hagrid’s position, but now he was saying nice things about him?

“Now,” Professor Sutler said. “I’m going to let you all go a little early today—” Professor Sutler cut himself off and raised a hand to stifle the immediate excited murmuring “—but that’s because I have a fair amount of homework for you. I want a four-foot essay—small writing, Misters Crabbe and Goyle—on magical species that have nearly gone extinct, due Monday.”

The class groaned. Professor Sutler chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “Alright, go on, get out of here. Quiet when you reach the castle, though; don’t want everyone expecting me to be this lenient. Oh, Miss Potter, would you mind waiting a few moments?”

“Okay, Professor,” Harriet said uncertainly, as most of the class except for her friends left.

Professor Sutler smiled at them politely and Harriet waved them on. She turned back to Professor Sutler who was looking at her kindly.

“Now, Miss Potter, I understand you are good friends with Rubeus? I mean, Professor Hagrid.”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet said.

“And I also understand it that you’re probably not happy with me taking his place, even for a little while.”

Harriet blushed. How did he know? She’d barely spoken to him all week except to point out that the Snidgets looked and acted like Snitches.

Professor Sutler laughed. “I couldn’t help but overhear you and your friends’ outrage the other day over the article.”

Harriet blushed. “We were a bit loud, weren’t we?”

“Rightly so,” Professor Sutler said, rummaging around in his ratty old pack.

Harriet thought about responding, but the real questions she wanted answered burst out of her instead.

“Where is he? Why won’t he talk to us? We don’t care he’s half-giant!”

“I know, I know!” Professor Sutler said calmingly. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you in particular. Since it’s been made clear to me from talking to the other staff how close you are with Rubeus, there’s something I want you to understand about Hagrid that perhaps you haven’t noticed.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. What could there possibly be she didn’t know? She’d known Hagrid for nearly four years now. She saw him almost daily at Hogwarts. She would talk to him nearly every chance she got.

“I’ve known Rubeus a long time, Harriet. Back when I myself was a student here. Have you ever wondered, perhaps, why Rubeus likes big, dangerous creatures in particular?”

Harriet thought. “Well… he um… he is big, too… and strong…”

Professor Sutler smiled and gave a ‘go on’ gesture. Harriet thought more, but couldn’t quite figure out what Sutler was getting at.

Professor Sutler rubbed his chin. “Well, what’s the thing he always says about all the dangerous creatures?”

“They’re misunderstood?”

“Exactly,” Professor Sutler smiled.

Harriet tried not to scowl. She wanted straight answers to her question. Why wasn’t he just telling her?

Professor Sutler shook his head slowly. “Doesn’t the fact I’m here tell you anything?”

Harriet shook her head.

“Professor Hagrid likes big and ‘scary’ creatures, yes?”

Harriet nodded.

“And most people who don’t know him would view Hagrid himself as big and scary, yes?”

“Yeah…?”

“So, why would Hagrid want to see big and scary creatures as being misunderstood?”

Finally, it clicked.

“Because… he’s misunderstood…”

“Precisely,” Professor Sutler smiled. “It’s like I said in class. Many big and scary things are sweet and kind on the inside. I mean, look at the dragons you faced in that first task. Why were they so dangerous? Yes, they’ve got great big teeth and breath fire, but it’s to protect what’s most precious in all life… their young.”

Harriet nodded.

“So… give Hagrid some time. He’ll come around,” Professor Sutler said. “Now, off with you, off with you… I have some ridiculously delicate little birds to catch in short order and as carefully as I can or I’m off to prison.”

Harriet was about to leave when she looked back at Professor Sutler pulling a fine net from his bag, fumbling as he tried to stretch it across the room.

“You know, Professor, would you like a hand? I, uh… I play Seeker on my Quidditch team usually. I can help catch them.”

Professor Sutler smiled. “Yes, yes Miss Potter. That would be very welcome indeed.”

Harriet smiled again and took one end of the net, helping stretch it across the room. It was silky smooth and soft, almost like her invisibility cloak.

“You know a lot about people, don’t you, sir?” Harriet asked as the first little Snidget became entangled in the net.

“I do… Miss Potter… I surely do…” Professor Sutler replied, distracted as he delicately extracted the Snidget from the net and gingerly put it back in the large cage. He wiped his forehead and watched the remaining four Snidgets buzzing about. “It’s why I have spent a great deal of my life avoiding them.”

He paused, collecting a second Snidget from the net, still speaking slowly as he extracted it. “And why… after I’m done getting the help I need… from Professor Dumbledore… I intend to return to my life of solitude.”

He didn’t look at Harriet as he spoke this last part. Harriet suddenly felt a strong pang of sympathy as she watched Professor Sutler work. What had happened to him that made him want to withdraw from the world? She shook her head, and instead busied herself with removing the third Snidget from the net.

## * * * *

That Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harriet was particularly excited for the chance to show her friends Daniel’s house and her room. Her friends meanwhile were equally excited for the chance to see Sirius. They headed out first thing. Harriet led the way, a distinct spring in her step as she went.

Harriet however was the only one who seemed all that cheerful. Everyone else was shivering against the chill wind and walking carefully to keep their wellingtons from sticking in the muddy ground.

“How can it be sunny out and still cold?” Dora complained as they crossed the grounds.

“Never mind that,” Marcus said, looking towards the Durmstrang ship, “what’s Krum doing?”

They stopped to look. Krum was standing along the edge of the ship, one foot up on the railing. Harriet blinked in astonishment. Krum was wearing nothing but swim-trunks.

He looked much thinner without his Durmstrang fur robes uniform, or Quidditch robes. He still looked in prime shape, his body all sinew and muscle. Hermione gasped as Krum spread his arms wide, balanced himself on the railing, and dove into the lake.

“He’s mental!” Ronnie exclaimed, “It’s got to be freezing!”

“Well, it’s a lot colder where he lives,” Hermione said, fairly. “He’s probably used to it.”

“He’s got good form,” Scott said, more to himself than anyone else as he watched Krum surface again, performing a breaststroke across alongside the ship.

“What?” Scott asked, sounding a bit defensive as he looked around at everyone. “He does.”

“Let’s get going,” Dora said, shivering. “He’s making me feel even colder.”

Everyone laughed and they headed down with the rest of the third through seventh year students to Hogsmeade. Every step of their way up the Hogsmeade high-street, Harriet looked in every shop window for Hagrid. She didn’t think she would see him there, there had still been smoke rising from his cabin chimney, but she still clung to hope.

Not finding Hagrid in any of the usual shops, they headed for Daniel’s house. Harriet was disappointed to find that Sirius was not at home either. She supposed that since Harriet wasn’t there anymore, Sirius was spending his days with Daniel and Remus in the shop.

Harriet still had a lot of fun showing her friends the house. Daniel had given her a key before she returned to Hogwarts, telling her that if she ever needed to run somewhere, that was the first place she should go, and the door would always be open to her.

“Wow, I missed having you around over the holidays, but I don’t blame you now, this house is great,” Ronnie said, flopping back on Harriet’s bed. “A nice, proper house.”

“Your house is nice too,” Dora said. “You have gnomes.”

Ronnie went scarlet and didn’t reply. Finished with the upstairs, they started back down.

“What’s back there?” Scott asked as they got to the bottom of the stairs, pointing back towards where Daniel and Remus’ bedrooms were.

“That’s where Daniel and Remus sleep,” Harriet said. “I’ve never been back there.”

“Lame,” Dora said, heading towards the rooms.

“Dora!” Harriet gasped. “That’s private.”

“Pff,” Dora scoffed. “You practically live here now. Can’t hurt to take a peek.”

Ronnie quickly followed.

Harriet bit her lip. “Okay… well… we can look…” she said.

If Harriet was being honest with herself, she was curious. And Daniel had never actually said she couldn’t go back there; he’d just omitted it from his tour.

“Wonder what’s down there?” Dora said, looking down the stairs to the basement after Daniel’s and Remus’ rooms had proved disappointingly ordinary.

“I think that’s Remus’ shop,” Harriet said. “Where he made my jewellery box.”

“Oooooo,” Dora grinned. “That I gotta see.”

“It does smell like sawdust,” Marcus observed.

They lined up and filed down the narrow staircase into the basement. Harriet felt guilty, but she was too interested all the same.

“Whoa,” Dora said.

The room was just what Harriet imagined it would look like. There was a long table against one wall, with shelves all along the walls full of tools and bits and pieces of partially completed projects.

“What’s this?” Scott asked, picking up a small placard on the table. He blew on it, blowing off a thick layer of fine sawdust and read: “‘ _We can be redeemed only to the extent to which we see ourselves’ – Martin Buber_.”

“What’s that mean?” Ronnie asked.

“I’m… I’m not sure,” Scott muttered, setting the placard down again.

Harriet wasn’t paying attention. She’d found a small corner with some stacked boxes marked: _planes_.

Harriet opened the lid to the top box. Inside was several small model aircraft. She picked up the top one which had a stand attached. She’d never been particularly interested in airplanes, though by the looks of it, Daniel certainly had been. The plane was dappled brown and green on top, with a pale underside and yellow, blue, white and red roundels on the wings and fuselage sides. Harriet looked at the base of the stand which had a small inscription on it.

 

_Hawker Hurricane Mk I_

_First Flight: 6 November 1935_

_Saviour of Britain_

_While many have sung their praises of the Supermarine Spitfire over the years, the true saviour of Britain in its hour of need was the Hawker Hurricane. Responsible for over fifty percent of German losses during the Battle of Britain._

Harriet read the name of the aircraft again. _Hurricane_ , Harriet thought. It reminded her of Daniel’s nickname for her, _Harricane_.

“What’s this?” Kieran asked.

Harriet turned to see what he was talking about. He and Marcus were shifting aside a thick sheet of plywood. What was hidden behind it gave Harriet a chill that the wind outside couldn’t hope to match. Behind the sheet of plywood was a door, but not just any door.

The door looked to be solid iron. There was a small flap at the bottom, much like the flap that Uncle Vernon had installed on Harriet’s door back in Privet Drive after Dobby had smashed the pudding during the dinner with the Masons. There was a slat at the top which Harriet was sure was a view-slot.

Harriet’s stomach was tying itself in knots. This was what Daniel hadn’t wanted her to see. Harriet knew at once what the door was for. It had to be the room where Remus stayed during his transformations.

“We, uh… we should go…” Kieran said. By the sound of his voice, and the look on his face, Kieran had come to the same conclusion as Harriet.

“Yeah, I agree,” Harriet said.

No one else needed any further persuading. They hurried up the stairs, and back outside. Harriet locked the front door again and they stood on the front steps, all awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes.

“Well, it’s almost lunchtime,” Kieran said, trying to sound more cheerful and lift the mood.

“Yeah,” Ronnie said shivering. “Let’s head into the Three Broomsticks then we can go to Daniel’s shop. It’s just down the street.”

Everyone agreed. Harriet let out a groan of relief as they entered the warmth of the pub. By the looks of it, many other people had gotten the same idea. The pub was even busier than usual.

Harriet and her friends awkwardly made their way to a table at the back, next to the games. Harriet smiled a little, remembering the day Daniel and Aurora had told her that Aurora was moving in with him.

They made their way to the bar, ordering butterbeers. Harriet sighed scanning the crowds. Hagrid wasn’t here, either.

“Doesn’t he _ever_ go into the office?” Hermione asked, pointing into the mirror over the bar. “Look.”

Harriet looked and saw Ludo Bagman was there, sitting in a corner with a gathering of goblins. The goblins all had their arms crossed, as though the things Bagman was telling them were not at all to their liking. By the looks of it, Bagman himself was far from at ease as he spoke to them in a rapid, though hushed voice.

Harriet narrowed her eyes. Bagman had the same look on his face that he’d had when they ran into him in the forest after the World Cup final. Bagman looked around surreptitiously but as he did so, his eyes found Harriet in the mirror and he stood up at once.

“Oh no,” Harriet muttered as Bagman made his way over to her.

“In a moment, in a moment,” Bagman said brusquely to the goblins as he left them. By the time he reached Harriet and her friends, however, his boyish expression was back.

“Harriet!” Bagman said in his usual jovial greeting. “How have you been? I was hoping to run into you! Everything going alright?”

“Uh, fine thanks,” Harriet replied.

“Wonder if we might have a quick, private word, Harriet,” Bagman said, his face still bright and cheerful. “You lot wouldn’t mind giving us a few moments, would you?”

“Uh, okay…” Ronnie said, though none of them looked happy about it as they headed off to find a table.

Bagman, meanwhile, led Harriet further down the bar, to where they couldn’t be as easily overheard.

“Well, I just thought I’d congratulate you again on your splendid performance against that Longhorn, Harriet. Simply superb.”

“Thanks,” Harriet replied. It was all she could think to say. She didn’t trust Bagman any more than she could through him now, after what Erica had told her at the Yule Ball. He was surely up to something now, because he could have congratulated her in front of her friends.

Bagman didn’t look in any particular hurry to get to the point. He stole a glance in the mirror at the goblins. They were watching Bagman like hawks, their black eyes narrowed to slits.

“Absolute nightmare,” Bagman said in an undertone as he noticed Harriet had spotted the goblins as well. “Their English isn’t too good… it’s like being back with the Bulgarians at the World Cup, but at least they used sign-language another human could understand. This lot keeps speaking in Gobbledegook, and I only understand one word of Gobbledegook: _Bladvak_. It means ‘pickaxe.’ I don’t like to use it in case they think I’m threatening them. Hah!”

Bagman gave a booming laugh that made Harriet jump.

“What do they want?” she asked.

“Er—well…” Bagman muttered, looking nervous again. “They’re… er… looking for Barty Crouch.”

“Mr Crouch?” Harriet asked. “Why would they be looking for him here? He should be at the Ministry, shouldn’t he?”

“Well, yes he should be,” Bagman said. “But he seems to have… well… stopped coming to work. He’s been absent for a couple of weeks now. His assistant, Percy says he’s ill, and he’s been sending instructions in by owl. Don’t tell anyone about that though, Harriet. Rita Skeeter’s still buzzing around the Ministry, looking for anything she can and I bet she’d work Barty’s absence into something sinister. Say he’s gone missing like Bertha Jorkins or some such.”

“Have you heard anything from Bertha Jorkins?” Harriet asked.

“No,” Bagman said, grimacing. “I’ve got people looking, of course…”

 _About time…_ Harriet thought.

“But it’s strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. But then she left her cousins to head south and see an aunt, but she never arrived. Disappeared en route. Can’t see where she got to… she doesn’t seem like the type to elope.”

Bagman hitched a cheerful look back on his face. “Still, what are we doing talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? What I really wanted to ask, Harriet, is how are you getting on with your golden egg?”

“Uh, yeah, I got it figured out,” Harriet said.

“Really?” Bagman asked, looking even more thrilled than he had before. “That’s excellent, Harriet, simply excellent! I’ve been worried about you, you know.”

“Worried about me?” Harriet asked.

“Well,” Bagman rubbed his chin, looking as though he was thinking hard about his words. “You didn’t ask to be in this tournament, did you? And being so young compared to the rest.”

Harriet pursed her lips.

“Anyway, if there’s anything else you need any help with, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Harriet felt her lips tighten more.

“Yes, if I need help, I will,” Harriet said, rather stiffly.

Bagman’s face fell. He looked as though Harriet had slapped him. He was about to say something more when Fred and George materialized at their side.

“Well _hello_ Mr Bagman,” George said, jovially.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Fred said. “How about a drink and a little chat?”

“Oh, uh, no, no thank you boys,” Bagman said, starting to move away hastily. “Really must dash—”

“Yes, I _bet_ you do,” Fred jabbed.

“Yes, a lucky break, that,” George agreed.

Bagman looked a little stricken. Harriet fought back a giggle.

“Yes, well… nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harriet.”

Harriet watched with Fred and George as Bagman exited the pub. The goblins quickly slid off their chairs and hurried after him, arguing quite angrily amongst themselves in Gobbledegook.

“Wasn’t bugging you too much, was he?” Fred asked her.

“Nah, he was just trying to help me with the tournament again,” Harriet explained.

“The rat,” Fred muttered. “Wonder what he was talking to those goblins about?”

“No idea,” Harriet said. “But they didn’t look happy.”

“No…” George agreed. “Bet you he owes them money.”

“Eh, there’s been enough betting going on this year,” Fred said grudgingly. “But you’re probably right. They’ll want him to win money off you just as much as he does, Harriet.”

Harriet sighed. She bid Fred and George good afternoon and went to join her friends. She explained everything Bagman had said to her. Hermione looked scandalized.

“He’s betting money on you?” Hermione exclaimed. “He can’t do that! He’s a judge!”

“Well we don’t _know_ that he is,” Harriet explained. “It’s just what seems most likely.”

“It does explain the really low scores he gave all the other contestants in the first task,” Scott said, scratching his cheek in thought.

“That’s not all that’s weird though,” Harriet said. “Bagman said that Crouch is ill. Hasn’t been into work for weeks.”

“Now that is interesting,” Scott agreed.

“Not really,” Ronnie said. “Percy’s probably poisoning him slowly or something.”

“Don’t joke about that, Ronnie,” Hermione said waspishly.

“Actually, she’s probably right,” Dora said.

“Uh oh,” Ronnie said, staring angrily at the door.

Harriet felt her jaw clench as she looked and saw who Ronnie was talking about. Rita Skeeter had just entered the pub. Her robes were the same shade of yellow as a ripe banana, and her long fingernails were painted a bright, hot pink. She had her pudgy photographer along with her once more.

They bought drinks and the pair made their way towards a nearby table. As they approached, Skeeter was wearing a grin worthy of a lion that had just cornered a lamb.

“…didn’t seem very keen to talk to us, did he Bozo? Now why would that be, do you think? And what’s he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights… what nonsense… he always was a bad liar. Reckon something’s up? Think we should do a bit of digging? _Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Sports, Ludo Bagman_ … snappy start to a sentence, Bozo—we just need a story to fit it.”

“Trying to ruin someone else’s life?”

The area went quiet. Rita Skeeter looked around and her eyes went wide behind her spectacles as she saw who had spoken. Harriet had let her anger well up in her so fast that she was a little surprised herself to realize that she had been the one who spoke.

“Harriet!” Rita Skeeter said cheerfully. “How lovely! Why don’t you join us?”

“I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,” Harriet growled. “What did you do that to Hagrid for? Didn’t give you the story you wanted, so you tried to ruin his life?”

Rita Skeeter merely raised her eyebrows in response.

“Our readers have the right to know the truth, Harriet, I am merely doing my—”

“Who gives a damn if he’s half-giant?” Kieran chimed in.

Skeeter’s smile grew even more. “Oh, Kieran isn’t it? Yes, I remember you… have a special relationship with Mr Hagrid do you? Feel your disability makes you a kindred spirit with Hagrid’s?”

“You don’t care, do you,” Hermione said, getting to her feet. “Anyone or anything for a story. You spiteful, horrible hag. Even Ludo Bagman—”

“Be quiet, you silly little girl,” Rita Skeeter interrupted Hermione. Her smug look was gone now. Instead, she looked as though she’d swallowed frog-pond scum.

“Don’t talk about what you don’t understand,” Rita Skeeter went on. “I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl… not that it needs it, mind you.”

“Who cares?” Kieran said again. “What gives you the right to dig up people’s personal lives? Pretty picky and choosy with what you write aren’t you? You know Hagrid was framed when he got expelled? Didn’t bother to write that, did you? Wouldn’t have made a good story, would it?”

Kieran was on his feet now, leaning on the table, standing beside Hermione. Harriet was staring at him. It was a side of Kieran she’d never seen before.

“Aye, he’s right,” muttered a krusty looking old wizard nearby. “’Agrid’s been comin’ in ‘ere nigh on forty years. Never ‘ad a problem with ‘im ‘ave we?”

There was some general murmuring of assent from the witches and wizards around them. Skeeter kept looking at Kieran and Hermione coldly. Then, all the sudden her smile returned and her Quick-Quotes Quill sprang from her bag of its own volition.

“So then, how about a little interview?” Skeeter asked Hermione and Kieran. “Tell me about the Hagrid _you_ know? The man behind the muscles?”

“Let’s go,” Dora said. She was tugging on Kieran’s sleeve, looking nervous.

“Yeah,” Marcus agreed, rising and putting his hand on Hermione’s shoulders, guiding her towards the door.

The rest rose and moved off. Harriet kept her eyes narrowed and fixed on Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill. It was dancing merrily across a piece of parchment. Skeeter’s eyes, meanwhile, were fixed on Kieran.

“Why’d you do that?” Kieran asked Dora, irritably. “Someone needs to stand up to her.”

“She’ll target you next,” Dora said. “Or all of us, or our families. She could get your parents in trouble with their work.”

Kieran didn’t look convinced. Neither did Hermione, who was fuming and walking back towards the school.

“Where are you going?” Harriet asked, following.

“Hagrid’s!” Hermione said. “Hagrid’s not hiding anymore! He’s not letting that foul woman ruin his life anymore.”

Harriet felt deeply conflicted now. She wanted to talk to Hagrid, but she also wanted to see Daniel, Remus, and Sirius again.

 _Then again_ , she reminded herself _, I only saw them a week ago, but it’s been a month since I’ve seen Hagrid…_

“Is it just me, or… is it getting warmer?” Scott asked, stopping.

“Yeah,” Marcus agreed. “And… what’s that smell?”

The group stopped, looking around.

“Is that smoke?” Dora asked.

At that moment, a loud bell began to ring. People began filing out of the shops, looking around in alarm. Harriet began to feel a dark, ominous sensation rising inside her gut. Something very bad was happening. Down the street, she could see a column of jet-black smoke wafting up into the sky.

“DO NOT PANIC!” boomed a loud, woman’s voice as if over a giant loudspeaker. “I REPEAT! DO NOT PANIC! EVERYONE PLEASE CALMLY EXIT THE SHOPS AND GATHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET! THERE IS A FIRE AT THE HOG’S HEAD! I REPEAT, THERE IS A FIRE AT THE HOG’S HEAD.”

“A fire at the Hog’s Head?” Ronnie asked. “That grubby old pub?”

Dora shook her head. “He must have let the fire go or something—”

That’s when Harriet saw it. Flames leapt straight up into the air from the direction of the pub. Yet, there was something wrong with it. It was spreading, moving to the buildings on either side of the pub. It was moving and swirling around as if alive.

“It can’t be, oh it can’t be,” Hermione gasped, clamping her hands over her mouth.

“Can’t be what?” Harriet asked.

Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. At that moment, the fire flared up and began to roar. Despite being out in the open, Harriet felt as though the air was being sucked from her lungs.

People were beginning to flee now, all running in the direction of Hogwarts.

“Run for it!” Dora shouted, tugging hard on Harriet’s arm.

Harriet couldn’t move. The flames spread across the high-street before her very eyes, despite having nothing to follow. It was now on the side of the street as Daniel’s shop, moving closer by the second. If Harriet didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she could see shapes in the flames as it consumed building after building.

“DANIEL!” Harriet cried.

Her legs worked on their own. She wrenched her arm out of Dora’s grasp and began running towards Daniel’s shop as fast as she could.

Without warning, a shadow loomed over Harriet. Something large caught her around the stomach so hard it knocked the wind out of her. The next thing Harriet knew, her feet were off the ground, and she was moving rapidly away from Daniel’s shop.

She looked around, and gasped to see the large, shaggy head of Rubeus Hagrid.

“Hagrid!” Harriet grunted. “Put me down!”

“The ‘ell I will!” Hagrid roared.

Harriet could hear the fear in Hagrid’s voice, but somehow it didn’t register. Instead, she looked back at Daniel’s shop. With a horror that tore her apart inside like a savage beast, the unstoppable flames began tearing into Daniel’s shop as though it was made of paper.

“NO!” Harriet cried. “DANIEL!”

“’E’S FINE!” Hagrid bellowed. “He was ‘elpin’ folks get ter safety when I ran in.”

Hagrid stopped and Harriet felt him stoop down. Before anything else could register in her head, she felt herself pressed tightly against two other people. She looked around to see the white, terrified faces of Dora and Ronnie. Hagrid had picked up all seven of them in his massive arms, and was beginning to run with them towards the Hogwarts grounds.

Harriet looked back at Daniel’s shop. It was already beginning to collapse in on itself. Harriet cried out again in pain. Her head was jerked back as Hagrid skidded to a halt. Harriet forced herself to look around.

The flames were in front of them now, blocking their path to the school. They were completely surrounded. Harriet was beginning to cough from the smoke and thin air. She could barely hear anything over the roaring of the flames and the clanging of the bell. Her head was getting jerked around as Hagrid spun around in circles, looking frantically for an exit.

“We’re trapped!” she could just hear Ronnie yell beside her.

That was when Harriet saw it. The flames opened in the middle of the street behind them. She felt a swift rise of hope. She stretched out an arm to point, hammering on Hagrid’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Hagrid, there’s a gap!” she shouted.

Hagrid turned to look. He took a step towards it but again stopped. Harriet did her best to turn and see what had stopped him.

There was a man standing in the gap. Harriet felt her stomach clench tighter. Not here, not now. It couldn’t be him.

He was wearing a long white coat that was whipping about his ankles in the wind gusts the flames were making. His trousers were white, his coat was white, and his shirt was white. In one hand was a wand, flames spraying out the end of it, as casually as a man walking a dog. The other hand was holding on his white, wide-brimmed hat down on his head to keep it from blowing away. He had a long, black ponytail that was also whipping around in the wind.

It was Solomon Kinney.

Kinney slowly began walking towards them. As he did, the flames followed his wand. He was producing the horrible flames without a care in the world.

“Fiendfyre!” Hagrid shouted. “You bloody mad fool, yer usin’ Fiendfyre!?”

Kinney didn’t respond. He just kept smiling his horrible smile as he came closer and closer. He was only twenty yards away now. From her raised position in Hagrid’s arms, Harriet couldn’t see his eyes. All she could see was Kinney’s horrible, toothy smile under the brim of his hat.

“It was a bit chilly, wasn’t it?” Kinney finally asked, only ten yards away now.

He looked around at the flames and raised his wand. At once, the flames seemed to retreat, as if they were all siphoning back up into Kinney’s wand. He seemed to be focusing hard, and finally the flames vanished.

Kinney turned back to Hagrid. He looked up now, and Harriet saw those horrible, hungry eyes again. He glanced at Harriet, before looking at Hagrid.

“Rubeus Hagrid,” Kinney said. “I was wondering if I would run into you.”

He began to walk again, though he moved no closer. Instead, he began to circle them. Harriet had a hard time keeping Kinney in view, as Hagrid kept turning to face Kinney.

“Born Sixth of December, Nineteen Twenty-Eight. Son of Mr Theodoric Hagrid, and Fridulfa the Giantess.”

“Yeah, and what’s it ter you,” Hagrid said, sounding defiant.

Harriet grimaced looking around. The way Hagrid was holding them, none of them could reach their wands. Meanwhile, because he was holding them, Hagrid couldn’t reach his own wand. Even if he wasn’t very skilled with it, Harriet imaged he could at least spear Kinney with it.

“Expelled from Hogwarts in Nineteen Forty-Three for the death of a fellow student. Wrongly, of course.”

Harriet stopped her struggling. What was Kinney getting at.

“Now, once again wrongly blamed, falsely accused, called a monster…”

“What are yeh getting’ at…?” Hagrid asked. He sounded as though he was torn between just as much apprehension and curiosity as Harriet was.

“Hagrid! Get back!” a voice shouted.

Harriet looked around with excitement. Despite the situation, joy shot through Harriet. It was Daniel’s voice. She managed to look past Hagrid’s head and saw Daniel running towards them. He was flanked either side by Remus and Sirius. Sirius by the looks of it still didn’t have a wand, but he was running towards Kinney anyway.

Daniel raised his wand towards Kinney, but Kinney was too fast for him. Without hesitation, Kinney’s wand whipped towards Daniel and once more the flames shot out. They roared up, creating a wall blocking the street. Now, Harriet did see shapes in the flames. It looked less like flames, and more like a milling, riling pack of golden, red wolves. Harriet began to panic again, but between the swirling wolves, Harriet saw the trio moving back and forth, looking for a way through.

Kinney looked back up at Hagrid and smiled pleasantly, still holding out his wand to control the flames.

“Now… Rubeus… may I call you Rubeus?”

Kinney had to raise his voice now, over the flames. Hagrid didn’t respond, however.

“Well… it occurs to me… you don’t belong in this place… but I know places you could belong. You don’t need to change the world to be accepted. Just go where you are wanted.”

Hagrid was trembling now. Harriet knew this trembling. Hagrid was beginning to well with rage.

“All this? Yeh burned down a bloody village just ter talk ter me?”

Kinney’s grin widened. “Got your attention, didn’t it?”

Harriet desperately wanted Hagrid to put her down now. She wanted Hagrid to smash Kinney into a thousand pieces. However, Hagrid’s protective instincts seemed to win out over his destructive ones.

“Well yeh wasted yer time!” Hagrid roared. “And iff’n I didn’ have the kids here I’d rip you _limb from limb_ … yer a murd’rer, you are! Mass murd’rer!”

“Guilty,” Kinney said, lazily. “Very well then…”

Kinney opened his mouth to say more but just then his eyes went wide and he jumped backwards. Something landed heavily on the cobbled street in front of him. Harriet grunted, trying to twist around to see. She couldn’t see the figure well with Hagrid’s bushy hair in her face. The figure was much shorter than Kinney, and had a slight frame.

Kinney had recovered himself well. He was still keeping the flames going that were holding Daniel, Remus and Sirius at bay. The figure was turning slowly towards Kinney. The figure was clearly a male, a young man by the looks of it. He was wearing a simple black tee-shirt, despite the cold air, and a pair of jeans. His hair was jet black like Kinney’s but curly and wild. She thought for a wild moment that it was Jeremy, perhaps only partially transformed, when she remembered he had blonde hair.

The figure flung itself at Kinney again with alarming speed. Kinney managed to dodge again, nearly losing control of the Fiendfyre.

“YOU HURT HER!” the newcomer roared in a surprisingly high pitched voice for the volume. “I’LL KILL! YOU!”

Kinney looked dumbstruck. The boy darted sideways, and grabbed a support beam from the remains of the Three Broomsticks. It was still smouldering and Harriet was sure the wood would burn his hands but with strength far beyond his size, he flung the heavy piece of wood at Kinney.

Kinney ducked it. Unable to avoid the attacks and keep the flames going, Kinney finally lost control of the Fiendfyre. It roared larger than before, and began immediately moving towards the other parts of Hogsmeade that had not yet been consumed.

Meanwhile, the boy was attempting to rip a lamp-post from the street. He wasn’t succeeding, but the post was groaning under his effort.

Kinney turned around in a circle. Two of the flame wolves had turned and were now coming towards them. The boy was about to launch another attack having failed with the lamp-post. Kinney looked up at Hagrid, and a distinct look of disappointment came over his face. He raised his wand and spun on the spot, vanishing in a loud crack.

The boy skidded through the spot where Kinney had been standing. He spun around, looking around for his quarry, but Kinney was long gone now, Harriet knew. The boy now turned and looked at them. Something about the boy was very familiar. His hair was black, as were his eyes. They were pure, jet, black. Harriet had seen those eyes once before, on the night of New Year’s Eve.

“Hyland…?” she asked without thinking.

She didn’t get the time to say or think anymore. The two flame-wolves had spotted them and were now changing course. The boy tore off up the street with incredible speed away from the flames.

“Hagrid, run!” Hermione shrieked.

Hagrid didn’t need telling twice. He turned and ran straight until the still smoking wreckage of Daniel’s shop. He leapt, smashing into the side of it. Harriet covered her head with her arms and the whole world went black.


	28. The Split Boy

“Who is to say what constitutes a monster? Who is to say what constitutes a man. In my time I have seen monsters be nurturing and kind, and I have seen men act monstrously. Myself included…”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

_Harriet was running. She didn’t know where she was running, or even why. Was she running from something, or towards something? All she knew was she was terrified or something._

_She couldn’t see anything. Was she running? She didn’t feel like she was moving anymore. The whole world was blackness, dark and present, pressing on her from all sides._

_Then there was fire; flames roaring all about her, wild beasts coming to eat her. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She was scared, the most afraid she’d ever been in her life. Her heart was going to explode. She couldn’t breathe._

White light hit Harriet’s eyes. At once, air began to fill her lungs. She took one deep breath, experiencing a moment’s joy, before it was quashed by the horrid, retching cough that began racking her body.

All around her, she heard more coughing. There were indistinct voices everywhere. Many hands were holding her arms, lifting her up.

Harriet opened her eyes again. The light was blinding, but she couldn’t see. The whole world was hazy. Her eyelids felt as though they were made of lead and slowly they shut once more.

_Flames again roared into her mind. She felt as though she was burning alive as pain wracked her body. She cried out and writhed in anguish and terror. Then, there he was. The man in white. He was standing over her, grinning his horrible, mad grin. Slowly, he raised his wand and Harriet cried out, covering her face with her arms as if that would somehow stop the attack._

“She’s in shock,” a distant, echoing voice said. “Raise her feet. There, excellent. It’s alright, Harriet. You’re going to be alright.”

_I’m not going to be alright_ , Harriet thought. _Kinney! He’s going to get me. He’s going to kill me!_

Something heavy, but warm and soft **,** covered her. At once, Harriet felt the sense of panic subside. It felt like a shield ** ~~,~~** keeping away the danger. A strong, yet gentle hand caressed her forehead.

“We’ve got you, Harriet,” the very familiar voice said. “You’re safe now.”

“Daniel?” Harriet asked. As she did, her voice cracked and triggered another round of coughing.

“Put this on her,” a woman’s voice said.

Harriet felt her head being lifted. Something was pressed against her lower face, encircling her mouth and nose. Somewhere nearby, an odd hissing noise began in a gentle rhythm that seemed to sync up with her breathing.

“Can’t see…” Harriet managed to mumble as her head was let back down.

“I know, hun,” Daniel said. “Remus?”

“Of course,” Remus said. “ _Accio_ glasses.”

There was a clinking noise. “Hmmmm, bit the worse for wear,” Remus said. “ _Reparo_. Ahh, there we are. Good as new.”

Harriet tried to hold out a hand for them but felt Daniel put a hand on her arm, gently lowering it. “We’ll bring them up to the school for you. You don’t need them now.”

“’Kay…” Harriet mumbled.

“These are marvellous devices, Mai,” said the first man she’d heard.

“Made the first one a few years ago when a boy turned out to be allergic to dung bombs,” said the woman, who Harriet now recognized as Miss Momori. “Had to clear out his lungs. Never imagined I’d need this many, though… The easy part was the device, the hard part was the potion.”

Harriet groaned softly. Her eyelids were starting to get heavy. She didn’t feel the urge to cough anymore as the sweet tasting air filled her lungs with each breath.

“That took some trial and error. The trick was essence of beggartick,” Miss Momori continued.

“Beggartick?” the man asked. His voice sounded familiar, too.

“Yes,” Miss Momori explained. “It acts as a mild sedative. It helps the patient relax, which slows breathing and inhibits the cough reflex. That way the actual ingredients in the potion have time to bond with the foreign particles in the lungs so they can be breathed out.”

“Ingenious, Mai, simply ingenious,” the man **sounded** deeply impressed. At that moment, Harriet finally recognized the voice. It was Dr Watkins.

“Yes,” Miss Momori said, sounding distracted. “The only problem is that beggartick… well… let’s just say they’re all going to be in for some very vivid dreams…”

“Well,” Daniel said, stroking Harriet’s hair more. “Suppose some dreams will be a good distraction after all they went through…”

“Yes… certainly worse things in the world,” she heard Sirius say, in a voice quite unlike himself.

Harriet’s head started spinning, but she would certainly not call the effect unpleasant. She felt like a feather being blown around in a light breeze, flipping and fluttering lazily.

“How is she?” Harriet heard Aurora’s voice now.

“She’s going to be fine,” Daniel reassured her. “How are the girls?”

“They’re fine,” Aurora said. “The whole school is shocked; first and second years were panicking everywhere at the sight of the flames…”

Harriet opened her eyes again. Despite not wearing her glasses, Harriet thought she could see both of the figures leaning over her clearly. They were looking down at her with kind worried expressions. On her right was the man, with untidy black hair. The woman at first looked blonde, but in the orange light of the sunset, the hair was starting to look redder to Harriet. Harriet felt a lazy smile spread over her lips before she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

## * * * *

_Harriet moaned softly. She couldn’t see. Yet she felt no sense of panic or alarm. Instead, she felt a warm embrace. It felt like many slender strong arms were holding her all over, and it was the best feeling in the world. She felt them holding her wrists behind her back, her elbows, her chest and shoulders, her waist, her thighs, her knees, her shins, and finally her ankles._

_Her mouth felt strange as well, yet it was a very familiar feeling. Her mouth was full of something soft but pliable, though it held down her tongue. Something tight and silky was pulled over her lips, wrapping around over her cheeks and back to the nape of her neck._

_The only other thing Harriet was aware of was she felt as though she was floating. No, she wasn’t floating. She writhed slowly and happily, and as she did she realized she was lying on a large soft mattress, and her head was resting on a warm, fluffy feather pillow. Harriet gave a little moan as she wriggled about some more._

_She felt so safe and warm with the tight bands all around her. She was so content she didn’t even jump as real arms slowly wrapped around her, embracing her from behind. In fact, she felt as though she had been expecting them to come all along._

_“Enjoying yourself, love?” a voice whispered so softly in her ear that Harriet could barely hear it._

_It was a boy’s voice; familiar, yet distant. His tender, sweet tone sent a shiver of excitement up her spine that made her feel even more loved and wanted._

“Must be a good dream.”

“Yeah, she’s smiling a lot.”

Harriet jumped. She didn’t open her eyes, but she was instantly aware of the fact she was now lying on her back on a bed that, while comfortable, was not nearly as comfortable as the one she had been lying on mere moments ago. She was no longer bound, either, and no one was holding her close and whispering sweetly in her ear.

About the only sensation that remained was her mouth felt funny, though not the same way. There was something over her mouth, but her mouth was no longer full. Not only that, but every time she breathed in and out there was a gentle hissing noise from somewhere nearby.

_It was just a dream_ , Harriet told herself sadly, _just a dream…_

She could hear more voices now, yet she was so relaxed, and so disappointed in being woken up that she did not open her eyes. The first voice she recognised was Remus’s.

“Well, Mai did say one of the potion’s side effects was vivid dreaming, didn’t she?”

“Should have been there…”

Harriet’s eyes almost opened in her surprise. That was Fred’s voice. There was a sniffing sound nearby. Harriet didn’t know why, but somehow she knew at once that it had been Daniel.

“Didn’t even think… I mean I saw her and her friends leave the Three Broomsticks… just thought they’d high-tailed it for the school with the rest of us…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Fred,” Remus said, using his kindest voice.

Harriet heard the soft sound of Remus patting Fred’s shoulder. Some silence followed before Sirius spoke again.

“Wonder what’s keeping Albus?” he mused.

“Probably got cornered by the Minister,” Remus replied.

“Can’t believe it’s gone…” Aurora said. “He just destroyed it… the whole town… nearly killed so many people… and for what?”

“But he didn’t kill anyone, though,” Fred said. He sounded as though he was trying to be more cheerful. “That’s lucky.”

“Wasn’t luck,” Sirius grumbled. “That was him just showing off, you ask me…”

“Showing off?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, ‘Here you lot! Look what I can do! I can use one of the most dangerous curses there is and not kill anyone with it!’”

“Why was he talking to Hagrid, though?” Remus asked, changing the subject slightly. “I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of the fire.”

“No idea,” Sirius replied. “Maybe trying to talk Hagrid into handing Harriet over?”

“But why would he want Harriet?” Aurora asked, sounding shocked. Harriet felt Aurora’s gentle hand on her upper arm, squeezing it softly, and felt another wave of calm wash over her.

“Who knows,” Sirius growled. “Ransom, or…”

The voices around her went silent. Harriet didn’t know how long the silence lasted. Before long, all she knew was she was floating again.

_“I hope it’s not too tight,” the voice whispered in her ear again._

_Harriet moaned softly and shook her head._

_“Good,” the voice whispered. “I wanted it to be perfect for you…”_

_“It is perfect,” Harriet reassured the voice._

_Or at least, that’s what she had tried to say. Instead her voice came out muffled and garbled, to the extent she could barely understand herself._

_The voice gave a soft laugh and the big, warm arms pulled her even closer. Harriet wriggled as best she could, rolling over to face him. She still couldn’t see, but she nuzzled her head against his chest and felt him gently kiss her forehead, right over her scar, before resting his chin gently on the top of her head._

“She’s still sleeping?”

“Yeah, all the kids are. That stuff Mai gave them packs a wallop.”

Harriet felt herself pulled back to reality. Again, she did not open her eyes as she listened to the voices. In fact, Harriet felt as though she couldn’t move even if she wanted to.

“Well… good thing,” she heard Daniel say. His voice sounded hollow, almost frail, in a way she’d never heard it before.

Sirius sighed. “Sorry about your house, mate… and the shop… I know they meant—”

“Damn the house,” Daniel said cutting Sirius off. His voice was so cold that Harriet felt herself taken aback. “Damn the shop. They can be replaced…”

“Daniel,” Aurora spoke up, her tone quiet and soothing. Daniel sighed as if he was a deflating balloon.

All at once, the memories of what had happened washed over Harriet. She saw buildings on fire, and she could smell the smoke. She felt the worry and fear again, panic rising inside her. Her heart began to beat faster as she remembered Hagrid plunging them into a burned down building. Not just any burned down building, but the remains of Daniel’s shop.

Aurora must have noticed Harriet breathing faster, for she felt Aurora’s hand rest gently on her forehead.

“She still has a bit of a fever.”

“Yeah, Pomfrey said she would,” said Sirius.

“How’s she doing?”

Harriet felt a pang of surprise to hear Mrs Weasley’s voice. Then she realized that Ronnie had been in the fire too. Of course Mrs Weasley would come at the very least.

“Still out. How’s Ronnie?” Aurora replied.

“The same,” Mrs Weasley said, her voice shaking slightly. “Seems she’s having some good dreams… she… she seems to be smiling a lot…”

“Harriet too,” Aurora said.

“Thank you all, so much… if you hadn’t been there to pull them out…”

“It’s quite alright, Molly,” Remus said in his softest, most calming voice. “It’s Hagrid you should thank the most. Had he not thought to jump into the wreckage of the shop, the fiendfyre certainly would have gotten them.”

“Yes...” Mrs Weasley sniffed. “That’s Hagrid all over… where is he?”

“Ministry of Magic last we heard,” Sirius answered.

“At the Ministry?” Mrs Weasley asked. “Why?”

“Questioning him about what happened,” Sirius continued. “And he’ll probably get a commendation. Heh, doubt Skeeter will remember to mention that in her next article.”

“Never know,” Remus said. “But you’re probably right.”

_Harriet blinked as the blindfold slid from her eyes and her glasses took its place._

_“How do you like the room?” the voice asked._

_Harriet was sitting up now. She was sitting in the boy’s lap, his arms wrapped around her from behind. Her eyes went wide as she looked around the bedroom in wonder._

_It was circular, just as large as the entire Gryffindor common room. It was entirely made of stone, with a high, domed ceiling. The walls were painted a pale yellow, with black lines criss-crossing them in a diamond pattern, and intricately painted borders of yellow, black and silver._

_In the centre of the room was a lit fireplace with a stone chimney going straight up from it through the ceiling; radiating warm, dry heat. The floor was covered in light and dark brown polished tiles also arranged in diamond patterns. There was a copper bath full of water that was steaming with heat as well. The only lighting was provided by candles and a crescent moon that was a bit too large to be believed, yet added enough to the mood and aesthetic that Harriet decided to pay it no mind._

_“You’re so beautiful,” the voice whispered in her ear again._

_Harriet felt her cheeks get warm and she cuddled back into the chest and arms._

_“You’re just saying that,” Harriet mumbled into the thick gag._

_“Of course not,” the voice said and Harriet could feel his warm breath and his soft lips brush her ear, giving her another happy little shiver._

_The next thing Harriet knew, there was a mirror in front of her. It looked much like the Mirror of Erised had looked; tall and ancient. Harriet gasped as she took in her reflection._

_Her dress looked to be made of leather, but had black and yellow vertical stripes. It was fastened down the front by red leather tabs and shiny, silver buttons. She was wearing a light, lacy white shirt under it. The short sleeves were slightly puffed up like a princess dress. The skirt was short, only a few inches shy of her knees. She was wearing pale grey, almost blue knee-socks and shiny golden heels._

_She had indeed been tied the way she’d felt before. Tight, brown ropes wound around her torso above and below her chest and around her waist. Her arms were tied tight back behind her, and more rope held her ankles and above and below her knees. There was a tight band of white cloth tied down over her mouth, which brought out her green eyes even in the dim, candle-lit room._

_“I hope you like the dress,” the voice whispered. “It’s very you, I think. And fits the theme of the décor.”_

_All at once a great sadness swept over Harriet. She looked herself over again in the dress, her tight bonds, and the strong yet tender (and apparently invisible) arms. She looked around the beautiful room once more; safe and comfortable and inviting. She took in the beautiful moon filling the nearby window._

_“I know it does,” Harriet mumbled sadly into the gag. “This is a dream…it’s just a dream…”_

_“Well, it is a good dream at least,” the voice whispered. “Isn’t that right—”_

_It was then that Harriet noticed that she couldn’t see the boy, who she could feel right behind her, in the mirror. She could still feel him holding her closely, and yet she didn’t see his arms in the reflection. Harriet looked down. She could see the arms quite clearly, now. The boy was wearing what looked like a purple suit._

_The boy shifted. She looked up at the mirror again. She could see the boy’s face had moved out from behind hers, yet it was still hidden in shadow. Once more she felt the soft lips brush the edge of her ear._

_“—Dove?”_

Harriet gasped sitting bolt upright. She clutched her chest, breathing heavily. She felt strange. She was breathless, as though she’d been running. She was sweating a little, particularly her inner thighs it seemed, yet her body didn’t hurt. In fact, she felt quite the opposite; she couldn’t remember feeling better in her life.

As she came to her senses, she also became aware of why her face felt strange. She was wearing a small mask over her mouth and nose connected by a hose to a small bellows on the floor beside her bed that was inflating and deflating with each breath. There was a small potion vial stuck into the top that was empty.

_So that’s what the hissing noise was_ , Harriet thought. She felt as though she should have known that, yet she couldn’t think why.

“Harriet!” a relieved voice said nearby. “Oh, goodness you’re awake.”

Harriet looked around to find the source of the voice. It was Aurora, who was rising from her chair and quickly hurrying over. Harriet squinted trying to see clearly. She felt Aurora press her glasses into her hand and Harriet quickly put them on.

Aurora looked breathless with relief as Harriet took in the room. Daniel, Remus and Sirius were all still by her bed, rising from their chairs and standing over her, smiling with equal joy.

“Are you thirsty? I bet you’re famished,” Aurora said hurriedly, filling a glass of water.

“Dunno… some water’d be nice,” Harriet replied, her voice croaking slightly. She pointed to her mask. “Can I take this off?”

“Yes, I’m sure you can now, dear,” Daniel said as Aurora handed Harriet the glass of water.

Harriet removed the mask, setting it aside before eagerly taking the glass and drinking. She couldn’t help but groan as the cool water filled her mouth and cascaded down her throat into her stomach. Aurora was right, Harriet was starving.

Harriet finished the glass and set it down on the table next to her, looking around the rest of the hospital wing. By the looks of it, every bed in the wing was full. The crowded feel of the hospital wing wasn’t helped by the fact that almost every bed had a family gathered around it.

She tried to look around for familiar faces amongst the gathered families. Once more, the reality of what had happened came flooding back into Harriet’s mind. Again her mind was flooded with the images and emotions of what had happened in the village.

“My friends!” Harriet said sitting bolt upright again, looking around. “Are they okay, where are—”

“Harriet! Harriet!” Aurora said placing her hands on Harriet’s shoulders, lying her back down. “It’s alright, you’re all safe. Everyone made it out.”

“Everyone?” Harriet asked, relief welling up inside her.

“Yes, dear,” Aurora said, gently stroking back Harriet’s hair from her forehead.

“Hagrid saved you all,” Daniel said, pulling his chair closer so he could sit right next to her bed, across from Aurora.

“Professor Dumbledore said he’s getting the Order of Merlin for it. First Class, probably,” Sirius chimed in, smiling.

“He not only saved your lives but he managed to delay Kinney long enough that Professor Dumbledore was able to return from London in time with Professor Howe to prevent the fiendfyre from spreading to the forest,” Remus explained. “Had it reached the forest, it might have become unstoppable.”

Harriet nodded, looking up at the ceiling as she digested the information.

“There is…” Aurora sighed. “There is some other bad news… however…”

Harriet sniffed. “Yeah… I heard… the house is gone…”

“You were awake?” Daniel asked.

Harriet nodded. She rolled on her side, away from Aurora. She suddenly had the strong desire to be alone. Despite that, she still found the presence of Aurora’s hand on her shoulder comforting and she rested her own hand on top of it.

“I heard kinda on-and-off stuff,” Harriet admitted. “I was dreaming most of the time.”

“Yes,” Aurora said. “The potion was to clear your lungs from all the smoke and soot you breathed in, but one of the side effects was dreaming. Did you have many?”

“Just the one,” Harriet said. “I kept going back into it every time I fell asleep.”

“What was it about?” Aurora asked. Harriet could tell she was trying to get Harriet to think about happy things after all that had happened.

Harriet grimaced. There was no way she was telling anyone around her about that dream. Then she glanced up at Sirius. Sirius was the only person she could tell. Sirius was the only person who would understand. But not here, not now.

“I… I don’t remember…” Harriet lied.

She certainly did remember. She’d never forget that feeling. She’d never forget that room, the feel of the bonds around her, the boy’s arms holding her so tightly.

_Dove_.

Harriet rolled onto her back again. The dream had felt so real. She’d even been aware she was dreaming while in the dream.

Harriet sighed. The last time she’d dreamed like that, Tom Riddle had put the dream in her head, and it had been terrifying. It had felt wrong, and terrible. This time, all she could think about was how badly she still wanted it to be real.

Then there was the boy in the dream. It wasn’t Fred that was for sure. It wasn’t Kieran either. It definitely wasn’t Dora.

_Dove_.

It had been Finn. Why had it been Finn? Finn told her she’d be better with Fred, hadn’t he? And Ginny had certainly seemed quite taken with him.

Harriet took off her glasses and pressed a hand down tightly over her eyes. Why was she worrying about this now? Something horrible had happened. She and her friends had nearly been killed. A whole town was now homeless. Why was it that all she could think about was some stupid dream a potion had given her?

“It’s okay to be alright, Harriet,” Daniel said gently. “No one was killed… everyone’s alright.”

“I know,” Harriet said, shakily.

“Come here,” Daniel said softly.

He scooped an arm under her shoulders and her legs, lifting her off the bed and onto his lap. Harriet curled up against him as he held her tight and rocked her gently. It was the safest and most secure she could remember feeling apart from the dream, yet it was a very different type of safe and secure.

The group sat in silence for a few minutes when there came the sound of the hospital wing doors opening. There was the soft sound of footsteps approaching and finally Professor Dumbledore stepped into view. His face was very grave, yet a hint of a smile lit up his face slightly as he looked over the scene.

“Ah, and here you all are, as expected,” Professor Dumbledore said in a hushed voice. “Would you all be terribly upset if I asked you all to come join me in my office? There are some very important matters to discuss in light of all that happened.”

Harriet looked up at Daniel. Daniel looked as though he was going to protest but instead he nodded and helped Harriet to her feet. Professor Dumbledore drew his wand and gave it a little swish. From thin air, a pair of soft, fur-lined slippers appeared and plopped down on the floor at her feet. Harriet slipped her feet into them and barely managed to stifle a groan. They were the most comfortable shoes she’d ever worn in her life.

Professor Dumbledore gave them a little bow and they moved to the next bed. One by one, they roused her friends from their sleep. They all looked groggy from the effects of the potion, and none seemed too happy to be awake. Professor Dumbledore however conjured them all matching slippers to hers and beckoned them to follow.

As they crossed the wing, Harriet couldn’t help but steal glances at the other beds. Now she saw many familiar faces. Nearly all of the students were attached to the same breathing apparatus that Harriet had been.

One bed had the curtains drawn around it, lit by a glow of oil lamps. She could make out silhouettes moving around inside and heard hushed voices. She heard a girl’s voice whimper and gasp in pain.

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s alright, Antoinette.”

Harriet blinked. That was Dr Watkins’ voice. _Antoinette_ , Harriet thought. _Toni?_

The group stopped and Professor Dumbledore stepped inside the curtains.

“And how is our Miss Middleton?” Professor Dumbledore asked kindly.

“It still hurts,” Toni’s voice replied, barely audible through gritted teeth.

“The anaesthetic will take effect in a minute,” Miss Momori said, calmly. “Then we can take the bandages off to treat the burn properly. You’ll be right as rain in no-time.”

“You’re a very strong girl, Antoinette,” Dr Watkins said. “I’ve treated fully grown soldiers who made five times the fuss over injuries not half as bad.”

“Soldiers?” Harriet muttered.

“Yeah,” Kieran whispered back. “He told me all about his time in the Muggle army, while he was working on my leg. He was a doctor in a medical unit, treated soldiers in some war the muggles fought with Argentina. It’s where he got hurt too and why he needs a cane.”

Harriet looked at Kieran curiously. His face was bright with pride as he described Dr Watkins’ past. Then, something else struck her.

“Wait, why would a wizard be in the muggle army?”

Kieran blinked. “Dr Watkins isn’t a wizard,” he replied.

Harriet felt herself quite taken aback at this. Dr Watkins wasn’t a wizard? Professor Howe’s lifelong friend? Deputy Headmaster of Rathlin? The man who’d healed her bruises for her with a magical solution after that terrible night at the Dursley’s? She was going to ask more when Professor Dumbledore returned.

“Will she be alright, Professor?” Hermione asked in a tiny voice.

Professor Dumbledore gave Hermione a very kind smile. “Yes, Miss Middleton will be just fine. She was not burned by the fiendfyre directly, and so the burns can be treated fully in short order.”

Professor Dumbledore seemed to think that was sufficient information and resumed leading them from the wing. At the sight of who occupied the last bed on the left, Harriet paused again. She recognized Kenley Tyler at once. For a horrifying moment, Harriet thought Kenley was dead. She was lying on her back, her hands were crossed over her chest, and her face looked very pale yet serene.

With a sigh of relief, Harriet came to her senses and realized that Kenley was only sleeping. In her surprise, she hadn’t noticed that Kenley was also wearing a breathing mask connected to a pump just like everyone else.

What struck Harriet next was seeing who it was sitting in the chair beside Kenley’s bed. It wasn’t Kenley’s little sister, Katy, as she’d have expected otherwise. Then Harriet remembered that as a third year, Katy was most likely in another one of the beds they hadn’t passed.

No, it was Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was sound asleep too by the looks of things. He was slumped in the chair, his head tilted to the side, with a tiny string of drool falling from the corner of his mouth to his shoulder.

Harriet didn’t know what to think of this. Part of her was touched. Another part of her was shocked. Yet another part of her wanted to burst out into giggles at the sight of Draco drooling.

“Hasn’t left her side once since we got here,” Sirius whispered.

“Really?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, lucky girl,” Sirius chuckled. “Hard to find loyal guys like that these days, I hear.”

Harriet digested this for a moment. Draco and Kenley were often in each other’s company, but all she ever heard them do was argue. Granted, Kenley at least seemed like she was trying to help Draco with something, but Harriet still hadn’t been able to figure out what.

Finally, they exited the hospital wing, and despite being a rather large group they made their way down the corridors and up the flights of steps to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“Shock-o-Choc,” Professor Dumbledore said to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the staircase that led to his study.

The gargoyle leapt aside and Professor Dumbledore led them up the turing staircase. As always, the sight of Professor Dumbledore’s office filled Harriet with wonder. The beautiful furniture was full of magical artefacts. Fawkes the phoenix was sitting quietly on his perch, preening his magnificent red and gold plumage. The portraits of all the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts hung on the walls.

However, unlike all the other times Harriet had been in Professor Dumbledore’s office, the portraits were not feigning sleep. No, this time they were all wide awake and anxious, whispering amongst themselves. It did not take Harriet long to realize why.

Standing in the middle of the room was Professor Howe, who smiled warmly in greeting to Harriet. He was accompanied by several other men. One of them was Professor Moody, who seemed to be giving a smug ‘I told you so’ look to everyone in the room. At least, Harriet thought that’s what the look was. It was difficult to tell, given how scarred Moody’s face was. Seated several chairs away was  Professor Stratton, who wore a very grave expression. Aurochius was there as well, along with Meinos and Antonius, the lead fawn.

Another of the figures Harriet recognized, but she was shocked to see him here. It was the same man who she had seen at the World Cup, the vampire who had offered help after the murder of Igor Karkaroff, Durmstrang’s previous headmaster. He was once more flanked by four black robed guards. Now, in the candlelight of Professor Dumbledore’s office, their hoods were removed. Despite this, she still could not see their faces, for all four wore rather frightening silver masks.

The final person Harriet did not recognize, yet she could tell at once that he must be someone important, though his dress looked terribly out of place. It looked more as though he belonged in the same painting as Sir Cadogan.

He wore a shiny metal breastplate over a leather jerkin and black silk shirt. His pants looked to be made of the same black material. He wore metal greaves on his feet, and gauntlets on his hands. Under one arm was a metal helmet that was pointed on top with a long nose-guard. Hanging from his belt was a long sword in a golden scabbard.

The new man’s face was very tan, with thick black hair and beard with streaks of grey. As with the vampire, Lord something-or-other, Harriet couldn’t remember, his face looked mostly human, but not quite. His mouth looked just a little too wide, and his eyes just a hint too large.

Professor Dumbledore stepped into the middle of the two groups. “To those of you who have not met them, may I present Lord Darius, head of the vampire coven of Great Britain, and Lord Rashid, head of the vampire coven of the Greater Middle East.”

The one in armour gave the group a curt nod. He did not look very happy at all. Neither did Lord Darius, Harriet noted. She looked back at Lord Rashid. So he was a vampire, too? That explained why he looked different. But shouldn’t he have pale skin?

“I have asked you all here to discuss a very important matter with you all,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “It was brought to my attention that you all witnessed the transformation of young Master Stevens this afternoon?”

_So that_ was _Hyland_ , Harriet thought.

“Y-yes sir,” Dora said.

“What happened to him,” Marcus asked. “He was… he did things…”

“That is why _I_ am here,” Lord Rashid said, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. “To deal with a problem that should have been dealt with the moment the thing was born.”

“The _thing_ has a name, Rashid,” Professor Howe said.

Lord Rashid looked even angrier. “Do not speak to me of these matters,” he said pointing a finger in Professor Howe’s face. “You had a hand in keeping the abomination alive and hidden—”

“Why yes, it was my idea come to think of it,” Professor Howe interrupted, looking completely unabashed.

“Now it has been awoken, and there is no telling what damage that it will cause before it is brought to an end.”

“Gentlemen, if you please,” Professor Stratton said in a quelling tone.

Both fell silent, though both kept glaring at each other.

“I should like to explain to you all what exactly Master Stevens is,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Perhaps if we could all just take a seat?”

“I would prefer to remain standing,” Lord Rashid said, “I do not wish to delay my hunt any further.”

Professor Dumbledore nodded politely and conjured chairs for all except Lord Rashid and Aurochius, who was unable to sit with his awkward legs. Professor Dumbledore sat and folded his hands pleasantly in his lap.

“Well, now that we’re all settled, perhaps Lord Rashid would be kind enough to explain the history of the Split Men, at least as much as he knows, which is considerable.”

Lord Rashid sniffed irritably. He paced the space in the middle of the group.

“We did not originate the Split Men, but we did find the ancient techniques in how they were made,” Lord Rashid explained.

Now that he had started explaining, his expression changed. He looked less angry, and guiltier, as if he was confessing to a terrible crime.

“The vampires, you mean?” Sirius asked.

“No,” Lord Rashid said. “Long ago, I was working for my coven as a spy within a group known as the Nizari Isma’ili. Within their ranks was a class of acoltyes known as the fida’i. They are better known to the western world as the Hashasheens, or Assassins. For being humans, their techniques and devotion were fascinating, and we wished to learn more.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. This was getting stranger and stranger.

“The Nizari were not simply at war with the crusaders, they were at war with other sects of their own faith, Islam. Saladin wished to unite all of Islam under his own banner against the invading Christian forces. They succeeded in surviving both the Sunnis and the Christians, but finally there came a force they could not conquer: the Mongols.”

Lord Rashid sighed, and finally allowed himself to lean back against Professor Dumbledore’s desk.

“Some, within the ranks, began to look for alternative methods of fighting. The fida’i were famed for their ability to blend in with their enemies, to spend months working their way through enemy ranks, pretending to be one of them until their moment came to strike.

“One day, a member of the order returned from a mission against the Mongols. He showed us ancient scrolls he had found which told of a way to _split_ men… of how to divide them between their deepest, darkest side, and their normal, everyday selves.”

“What, like… Jekyll and Hyde?” Hermione asked.

Lord Rashid paused, giving Hermione a very confused look.

Marcus leaned over and whispered in Hermione’s ear. “I don’t think vampires read much muggle literature.”

“If I may continue without interruptions,” Lord Rashid said, waspishly. “Using this technique, the Nizari thought they had found the perfect sleeper agents. They could place these _split men_ , as the documents called them, in enemy encampments; let them get right in their enemies’ inner circles. Then, when the moment was right, the sleepers could be awoken with the proper trigger, and become a raging, unstoppable killing machine.”

“And they succeeded,” Daniel muttered, giving both Professor Howe and Professor Dumbledore dirty looks.

“Yes and no,” Lord Darius said. Lord Rashid was looking angry once more, apparently too much so for words, and so Lord Darius continued to speak for him.

“The Nizari succeeded in creating Split Men, but they failed in finding a proper trigger mechanism. They were too volatile. Anything could set them off at any time, without rhyme or reason. For some it was anger, for some it was love, and still others fear. Most often, it was any and all of them.”

“I pleaded with them not to go through with it,” Lord Rashid said, slipping back into his defeated tone. “I told him it was an abomination in the eyes of God to twist his work in such a way. But desperation makes fools of all men, and they would not listen, and it was their downfall.”

“But then, how the hell did Hyland become one, if they’re made?” Daniel asked, rising from his chair. “And how the hell do you make one? I mean for Merlin’s sakes, Dumbledore! You let this kid live here in this town, with other kids around, knowing he could go off at any moment?”

“Hyland wasn’t made one, he was born one,” Professor Howe said, sounding quite serious now. “He was a child, what were we to do with him? It wasn’t his fault he was born what he was. No one asked him if he wanted that power, nor did anyone ask his father or grandfather.”

Daniel blinked, looking from Professor Dumbledore to Professor Howe and back.

“When the Nizari were scattered, I stole the scrolls,” Lord Rashid said, sounding even more irritated now at the interruptions. “I took them to the Council of the Homelands and they were kept hidden away. I then made it my mission to hunt down and destroy the lines of Split Men. Because we learned all too quickly that when they procreated, they passed on the ability to their young. And their young often proved even more unpredictable. Not necessarily stronger, but wilder and less in control. It was as though the wilder side took more control with each passing generation.”

“That’s not good then…” Sirius said, stroking his beard. “I mean how many generations would that be for Hyland?”

“Only three,” Lord Rashid said. “Unfortunately… a human wizard, by the name of Grindelwald, was seeking power of his own. He recruited dissatisfied members of our covens to his side, and so he stole the scrolls for his own. His plan was the same as the Ismai’ili fida’i of old. He wanted to create muggle sleepers, to sew chaos and disorder throughout the muggle world; to weaken it so that wizards could rise up and rule them.”

“And apparently he succeeded,” Professor Stratton mused. “I would have appreciated being informed of that…”

Lord Rashid gave Professor Stratton a cold look. “The Split Men are the vampires responsibility.”

“Yes, but I’m sure the other communities would have appreciated some warning.”

“Yes, we would have,” Aurochius agreed, his voice full of disdain.

Lord Rashid snorted with impatience, bearing his white, sharp teeth. “Yes, Grindelwald and his twisted followers were successful. They created a single Split Man, and as before, it proved uncontrollable, and escaped. Once more, I had to go on the hunt. As was agreed, the responsibility of handling Split Men was given to the vampires before you were even born, Ambassador.” Lord Rashid growled, pointing at Professor Stratton

Professor Stratton’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Apparently, even Lord Rashid, a vampire with a sword, had too much respect for Professor Stratton for he instead returned to his explanation of the Split Men.

“Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful in finding it before it fathered a son. In time, that Split Man was awoken and created havoc, and again I had to go on the hunt. However, it was not until last spring, when Lord Darius brought us news of discovering the boy that I learned its father had also sired an offspring.”

“Thank you for that,” Professor Howe said to Lord Darius, his voice full of irony.

“You’re welcome,” Lord Darius retorted with equal sarcasm. “It is vampire law that any evidence of Split Men is reported at once. Our law is not your law.”

“Yes, but you cannot just come into Britain and thwart its laws,” Professor Howe said. “Unless I am very much mistaken.”

“You are not,” Lord Darius replied.

“I should like to see your people try to stop me from hunting the boy,” Lord Rashid said, gripping the handle of his sword once more. “This sword has slain eleven Split Men. It cries out for a dozen.”

His nostrils flaring, Lord Rashid slid on his helmet and began marching past everyone to the door. Professor Howe gave Lord Rashid’s back a very cold look as he left. Lord Darius cleared his throat.

“Rashid, my friend… are you sure you do not require the assistance of my horsemen?” Darius asked, gesturing to the masked men standing behind his chair. “They are remarkable hunters as well.”

“No, Lord Darius,” Rashid said, pausing at the door. “The rebirth of the Split Men is my sin to bear, I shall not subject others to it.”

“Then I wish you luck, my friend.”

“I accept that wish,” Lord Rashid said, and finally exited the room.

The moment Lord Rashid was gone, Lord Darius sighed and seemed to deflate slightly in his chair.

“You’re going to ask me to betray my kind and help you find the boy before Rashid does, aren’t you?” Lord Darius asked, giving Professor Dumbledore a sideways glance.

Professor Dumbledore however simply smiled pleasantly. “Oh not at all, Lord Darius. I am going to have Aurochius and his merry band of minotaurs and fawns see to that.”

“I accept this task with eager determination, Professor,” Aurochius said.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at him warmly and bowed his head in appreciation before returning his attention to Lord Darius. “Now, Darius my old friend. I have a very different request in mind from your Horseman.”

“Ah, this killer, Kinney, then?” Lord Darius asked.

“No,” Professor Dumbledore shook his head. “It is an even more private matter that I will discuss with you later.”

“What I want to know is, why exactly the hell didn’t you tell me this years ago, Dumbledore?” Daniel said, sounding even more angry now. “All you ever told me was Hyland wasn’t all he seemed, and he needed guidance and care.”

“Well, we did warn you that there was a chance he could be dangerous,” Professor Howe said. “I think that just after so many years of knowing the boy you blinded yourself to our warnings.”

“Well I would have heeded them a bit more had you warned me he could turn into a monster so strong that he could nearly rip a streetlamp from the ground,” Daniel barked.

Daniel was on his feet now, pacing. “Gods I mean I saw him when that… whatever it was started to awake in him on New Year’s Eve. I saw his eyes go black, I heard his voice change, but… god I had no idea, I mean he was sitting there, mere feet away from Harriet when it happened. What if he’d fully let loose then? How could we have stopped something like that? He could almost move faster than I could see!”

“Daniel,” Professor Dumbledore said in a soft, calming voice. It seemed to work, because Daniel sat once more, though he still looked tense.

Professor Dumbledore took a breath before continuing. “Professor Howe and I did take a calculated risk when it came to Hyland.”

“Next to nothing is known about them,” Professor Howe said. “How they’re made, how they transform, what sets it off, how they pass it on…”

“Hyland was our chance to try something better,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “You see… from what Sherrod and I had learned from our own studies on the subject, Split Men are generally born out of wedlock, generally never knowing who their father was.”

“Sadly, they’re often the product of rapes from the father’s split side. Or prostitutes… long story short, they’re generally the result of parents who never wanted them.”

“Hyland was our chance to see if it could be… buffered,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “Raising him in a loving environment, surrounded by people who love and care about him.”

“You know the saying… it takes a village to raise a child,” Professor Howe chimed in.

“Yes, that was more or less our reasoning,” Professor Dumbledore agreed.

“And based on what Hagrid said… I think we succeeded,” Professor Howe said, leaning back in his chair with his usual air of smugness.

“Succeeded?!” Daniel said rising from his chair again. “He still transformed! He’s still out there on the run!”

“He will return back to the Hyland we know in due time,” Professor Dumbledore said, raising a hand. “But what Sherrod means is this—once Hyland transformed, his one thought was stopping the person who was destroying his home, the one person who hurt the person he loves.”

“Meaning that instead of going on a killing rampage, some of Hyland is still inside the split side’s mind,” Professor Howe elaborated.

“Fascinating,” Lord Darius said, scratching his chin looking both thoughtful and impressed. “Fascinating indeed… you have my congratulations on that breakthrough.”

Harriet was surprised that there didn’t seem to be any irony in Lord Darius’ voice.

“That means the real danger then is Rashid finding Hyland once he’s returned back to normal, and unable to defend himself,” Professor Stratton finally spoke up.

“Exactly,” Professor Dumbledore confirmed. “Fortunately, we have our dear Aurochius and company on hand to take care of that.”

“My men and I are at your command,” Aurochius said, holding one of his massive fists to his chest and bowing.

Beside him, Meinos sighed. “Ah, and just as I was finally getting comfortable…”

“You _are_ being paid handsomely for this,” Professor Howe reminded him, studying his fingernails.

“An adventure it is then!” Meinos said, much more cheerfully.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore returned his attention to Harriet and her friends. “Now, you all understand what it was you witnessed, and what Hyland really is?”

Harriet and the rest nodded.

“Hyland isn’t a monster,” Professor Howe said, leaning forward. “He’s the same boy you all knew. He’s just that, and also this. But it’s essential that we keep this as quiet as possible, alright? You can’t tell anyone about what you saw.”

“Yes, Professor,” the students all said in unison.

“Excellent,” Professor Dumbledore said, smiling proudly. “Now, the rest of you, I want back in your beds before Madame Pomfrey has my head. Harriet, however, I should like to see a little longer.”

“Finally got to me then, have you?” came the gravelly voice of Professor Moody.

His voice made Harriet jump. In all the talk about Hyland, Harriet had quite forgotten that Professor Moody was there.

“Yes, Alastor,” Professor Dumbledore said kindly. “The rest of you children, however, back to the hospital wing with you. Desmond, would you kindly escort them, please?”

“Of course, Professor,” Professor Stratton said, smiling down at Harriet’s friends. “Come along now. Nice comfy beds await you.”

Harriet waved at them as they left before returning her attention to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Moody had stumped over from the dark corner where he’d been sitting and leaned against Professor Dumbledore’s desk, taking the weight off his wooden leg and groaning in relief.

“Damn thing always acting up,” Professor Moody said, taking a swig from his hipflask. “Now then, Potter, we think part of the reason Kinney attacked was because of all the kerfuffle over the Triwizard Tournament. That makes you one of his prime targets.”

Harriet swallowed.

“Because of this, you’re going to be getting some private lessons with me on the more advanced levels of defensive magic. I understand from Remus that you can produce a corporeal patronus already. That’s damned fine, damned fine indeed. Compared to that, most of what I teach you will be a piece of cake.”

_Well that’s a relief,_ Harriet thought, remembering how difficult patronus lessons had been.

“Yes, Professor,” Harriet replied. She looked over at Daniel who was finally smiling. Apparently, the idea of Harriet learning how to better defend herself was something he approved of.

“The reason for the secrecy about this, Harriet, is the tournament,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “Professor Cato and Madam Maxime in particular are quite competitive about the tournament as you’ve seen. If they were aware you were getting such lessons, they may make a rather large fuss about it, and accuse us of trying to cheat in the tournament. That would not stop us from teaching you, but it would cause plenty of people plenty of undo stress and anxiety, and so keeping it quiet would be doing them a considerable favour.”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet agreed.

“Excellent,” Professor Dumbledore smiled. “In that case, you and Alastor are to meet three times a week in the evenings. And now, it is time for you to get your proper rest as well. Daniel, would you like to take Harriet back to the hospital wing?”

“Yes, yes I would,” Daniel said, rising.

Harriet rose too and Daniel put an arm around her shoulder, walking with her to the door. They headed down the spiral staircase and out into the corridor. As they walked, Daniel paused and sighed.

“I’m… I’m sorry for losing my cool like that back there, Harriet,” Daniel said. “I just… no, I know Hyland and I know he’s not a monster, it’s just…”

“Just what?” Harriet asked, looking up at Daniel with deep concern.

Daniel sighed again and walked over to a bench, sinking onto it. Harriet sat beside him.

“I just… I came so… so damn close to losing you today…” Daniel said, staring at the opposite wall. “I was afraid… I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life. And then I saw what Hyland could do… and then I remembered that night over Christmas and I just…”

Daniel trailed off, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s just, ever since the first task, when you… you know… called me daddy…”

Harriet tightened her lips. She also suddenly felt the need to blink considerably more than normal.

“Everything changed… everything in my life just… it was like someone flipped a switch and I was an entirely new person. Things mattered to me that had never mattered before… It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I mean… god I grew up in that house… spent my whole life there. So many memories of playing around with Remus and Daniel and Sirius and Peter… hanging out there during Hogsmeade weekends, planning our monthly adventures…”

Harriet reached up and took one of Daniel’s hands. Daniel lowered the other hand and just held Harriet’s hand tightly.

“And it’s gone now… and I don’t care. I don’t care because you, Aurora and the girls are safe, and that’s all that matters to me now.”

Harriet suddenly felt a sense of guilt rising.

“Daniel… I um… today… my friends and I went to the house…”

“Oh?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah… and we um… we sort of um… went into the basement…”

“Ah,” Daniel nodded. He didn’t sound angry, disapproving or disappointed.

“Yeah… so… Harricane… you got that from the plane, didn’t you?”

Daniel finally laughed. “Okay, okay,” he laughed more. “Guilty there. Yeah.”

Harriet smiled a little. “You could have shown me that stuff before… I thought it was kind of cool. I mean… the door was shocking…”

“Ah, so you found that too, huh?” Daniel said. “I… that was more to save Remus’ feelings than anything. He’s still ashamed about that, and still private about it.”

Harriet nodded, and hugged Daniel’s arm tightly.

“Don’t worry, Harriet… it’s going to be okay,” Daniel said, reaching his other hand around to stroke her hair.

“I know…” Harriet said. “It’s still really scary…”

“Yeah… life is… all the time. Nothing’s going to change that I’m afraid…”

They sat in silence for a while. All the while, Harriet finally felt at peace from all that happened that day. She hugged Daniel’s arm tighter when another memory came back to her mind.

_Daddy_.

Harriet looked up at Daniel. He was staring across the corridor again, once more lost in thought it seemed. Daniel was always there for her, willing to do anything for her. Maybe it wasn’t so strange that Harriet called him ‘daddy’ after all.

The only real father she’d ever known in her life had been Uncle Vernon. She supposed he was nice enough to Dudley. He certainly always made sure Dudley had whatever he wanted. But there was something different about the way that Daniel cared for her that felt more like what she always wished a father would be.

Harriet opened her mouth to say something about this, but closed it. Somehow, it just didn’t feel right to bring it up now. They rose once more and continued on to the hospital wing. Harriet kept holding onto Daniel’s arm the entire way.

They entered the hospital wing as quietly as they could, trying not to disturb any of the sleeping families. She was pleased to see Draco was still sleeping at Kenley’s bedside, though it looked as though he had woken at least once, for the string of spittle was gone from his lip.

By the looks of it, Dr Watkins and Miss Momori had both finished their work on Toni. The curtain around her bed was open now. Toni’s arm was covered in thick bandages, but Toni looked as though she was sleeping peacefully.

Harriet smiled as Aurora stepped out from behind the curtains by Ronnie’s bed where the other parents were all gathered. She joined Harriet and Daniel as they made it to Harriet’s bed. They tucked Harriet back in and each kissed her forehead. They then sat side by side in chairs beside her bed, holding hands.

Harriet took off her glasses again, yawning and stretching. She lay on her side, looking at the fuzzy silhouettes of Daniel and Aurora. She could just make out that they were still holding hands. Harriet glanced around the hospital wing. Though she couldn’t make out the other families in the dimly lit room with her glasses off, but she knew they were there. Looking back at Daniel and Aurora, her eyes slowly began to close. As she drifted off to sleep, her one last, comforting thought, was that in spite of all the terror that had happened that day, at the end of it, she had one more thing that made her just like everyone else.


	29. The Mystery of Mad-Eye

“Many know how difficult it is for trust to be earned. A far greater problem—in my mind—is that once given, trust is so difficult to rescind, no matter the violation.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The group walked back to Gryffindor Tower that morning and Harriet could not help but notice how quiet the school was. The only sound she could hear as they made their way down the corridors was that of their own feet on the stone floors. They passed a group of second year Ravenclaws, whose faces were all pale with dark circles under their eyes, walking shoulder to shoulder as if worried someone was about to spring out upon them. It was almost as though the Chamber of Secrets had been opened once more.

“You know… it’d be great if there was just one year where people were able to walk around this school without nearly messing themselves in fear,” Marcus grumbled after the second years were out of earshot.

“Well, technically our first year…” Scott reminded him.

“Yeah, it was just us in a panic that year,” Kieran chortled.

Dora sniffed. Harriet gave her a sideways glance. Dora hadn’t been friends with them in their first year. In fact, Dora had confessed to Harriet at the Yule Ball that she had disliked Harriet during their first year.

“Well… look at it this way,” Marcus said, his voice heavy with irony. “Hyland’s turned into a non-stoppable monster, some vampire nutter’s out to kill him, and Hogsmeade’s been wiped off the earth…”

“How’s that supposed to make any of us feel better?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Can’t get any worse, can it?”

“Oh blimey…” Ronnie gasped.

They’d reached the third floor. They looked back to see that Ronnie had stopped and was gaping out one of the windows. Apprehensively, they moved to join her. From this vantage point they could look out upon Hogsmeade proper. Or rather, they could look out upon what was once Hogsmeade. Where once was a cozy little village now lay a desolate, charcoal grey wasteland, scattered with the hollowed out skeletons of buildings.

“It’s gone,” Hermione said in a tiny voice. “It really is gone…”

“The Three Broomsticks… Zonkos…” Dora said.

“Honeydukes…” Marcus added.

“The… the shop…” Harriet said.

The reality hit Harriet all at once as she looked out on the remains of the town. A small part of her mind told her it was a silly thing to get wrapped up in. Daniel certainly hadn’t seemed upset about the loss of the shop. Yet, in that moment, Harriet felt tears streaming from her eyes instantaneously.

She had first met Daniel in that shop. So many of her favourite clothes to wear had come from there. Daniel had given Remus a new lease on life by taking him on as his partner in his shop. Daniel gave her a free outfit the very first time she met him there. She remembered the time she had been caught sneaking into Hogsmeade by Daniel behind his shop, and how furious he had been yet still did not turn her in for it.

“Hey, what do you know?” Marcus said, suddenly sounding much more cheerful as he pointed out on the scene

“What?” Harriet asked, wiping her eyes and trying to see what he was pointing at.

“The Shack’s still there,” Marcus explained.

Harriet blinked. Marcus was right. Just above the top of the trees, off the edge of town, there was the top peak of a house.

“How about that?” Scott said, smiling softly, leaning on the window sill.

In spite of the pain she was feeling, Harriet felt her heart lift ever so slightly at the sight of the Shrieking Shack, and the knowledge that it alone had survived Kinney’s attack. It wasn’t just the fact that at least something had survived. It was also the place where she had learned the truth about Sirius, and where she had learned the truth about what happened to her parents.

“Well, you know…” Scott continued, “It’s not like we can’t do magic.”

“True,” Hermione nodded managing a smile through her tears.

“Yeah,” Dora agreed. “The old town will be back to itself in no time. I mean… not like _Reparo_ can work on fiendfyre damage, but… they should be able to rebuild the town pretty quickly.”

“Probably with some help from the friendly Flamel family, eh?” Marcus teased.

“Probably,” Dora agreed quite readily. “Daddy is a bit busy at the moment… he’s working on an agreement with the Unionist army to supply their army with proper armour.”

“Armour?” Kieran asked.

“Yeah,” Dora said. “Apparently gold is really effective at stopping the Killing Curse.”

Harriet blinked. “Stopping the Killing Curse? But I thought it was unblockable.”

“Well…” Dora mused. “It’s not really perfect. For one thing, gold’s really heavy. So they have to just put a thin layer of it over a lighter metal, and the impact tends to break the lighter armour, so it only really works once. But Daddy says it’s better than nothing.”

“Gives you a second chance at least,” Marcus agreed.

“But, Professor Moody said…”

“Well no spell can block it, but it’s not some crazy, indiscriminate killing tool,” Scott explained.

“Right,” Dora said. “I mean it’s not like you can just point your wand straight down at the ground, shout ‘ _Avada Kedavra_ ’ and kill some poor dope over on the other side of the earth or something.”

Marcus snorted with laughter.

Harriet, however, mused. She supposed it was silly to think that somehow her parents could have stopped the Killing Curse if only they had gold or something else. She shook her head, trying to put such thoughts from her mind. She had thought about enough dark things during the previous night. Besides she has so much for which to be thankful: such as the fact that she and her friends had survived at all.

They had just resumed their trek up to Gryffindor Tower when she remembered something. Thinking about the army, Harriet remembered Kieran telling her about how Doctor Watkins had been in the British Muggle army.

“Wait a minute,” Harriet said, turning to Kieran. “What was that you were saying last night about Doctor Watkins not being a wizard?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Kieran smiled. “He’s a squib.”

“A squib?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, it was a surprise to me too,” Scott said. “The Watkinses are an old wizarding family, so they kept it pretty hush-hush, I guess.”

“Poor Doctor Watkins,” Hermione bemoaned. “Your family sweeping you under the rug like that, just because you’re born a squib.”

“It was pretty common not even that long ago,” Dora said sadly. “Look at how hard Filch tried to cover it up. But I think that makes Doctor Watkins pretty amazing, I mean look what he managed to accomplish in spite of it?”

“In spite of being a squib?” Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed.

“No, in spite of people’s attitudes towards them,” Dora spat. “Do you _always_ have to take everything I do or say in a negative way?”

Hermione flushed. “S-sorry, it’s just the way you said—”

“I’m tired,” Dora said, her hands clenched in fists as she turned on her heel and started heading back the direction they had come towards the Slytherin common room instead.

“Dora!” Hermione called, but Dora paid her no heed as she headed off as fast as she could walk without looking back.

Harriet was about to head after her but was stopped by Scott putting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a significant look. Immediately thereafter he nudged Ronnie’s arm before giving her a look as well. Ronnie looked puzzled for a moment when suddenly her face lit up as though someone had lit a torch inside her eyes and she sped off after Dora instead.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Harriet nodded, remembering how Ronnie fancied Dora. “Smart.”

Scott shrugged a little. “Maybe… I guess I’m just a bit… what’s the word, sympathetic, or empathetic?”

“Empathetic,” Hermione replied.

“Thanks,” Scott smiled.

“Empathetic?” Harriet asked.

Scott’s cheeks went quite red. Now it was Kieran who nudged Scott with his shillelagh (Doctor Watkins had insisted he use it again for the rest of the week in addition to his knee brace). Hermione gave Scott an encouraging smile while Marcus rolled his eyes.

“You gotta tell her sometime, mate,” Marcus urged.

“Tell me what?” Harriet asked, her sense of frustration rising. Why did everyone always seem to know things she didn’t?

Scott however sighed and seemed to deflate a little.

“Okay, but somewhere quiet,” Scott agreed. He looked back at Harriet, giving her a very sheepish, guilty look. “Just… promise you won’t hate me…?”

Harriet felt quite taken aback at this. “Why would I hate you?”

Scott looked out the window again, before sighing and hopping up to sit on the sill.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Hermione said, her voice soft and kindly.

Hermione, Kieran, and Marcus gave both Harriet and Scott encouraging smiles before they continued onwards towards Gryffindor Tower. Now they were quite alone, Scott tightened his lips, and took a deep breath. Harriet hopped up onto the window sill next to him, looking up at Scott with concern. She had never been quite as close with Scott as the others, though she had always thought that was because he was in Ravenclaw, and so she did not see quite as much of him as she did Dora, as Dora shared both Care of Magical Creatures and Potions classes with them, while they shared no classes with the Ravenclaws.

“Harriet, I have something to tell you about me, and… it’s why I’m worried you’ll hate me.” Scott took another deep breath. “Not… not _because_ of the secret, but because I was so worried about how you’d take it for so long…”

Scott gave a hollow laugh. “Though to be fair, Ronnie doesn’t know either. Everyone who does know found out by accident, or… I kind of had no choice but to tell.”

“Scott, what is it?” Harriet asked, trying to sound her kindest, while disguising the growing, almost indecent sense of curiosity that was brewing in her head.

Scott closed his eyes, tightly. He looked to be deep in thought for a moment before he opened his eyes again and looked around the corridor.

“Not here… How about… I don’t know… Stratton’s room? He’s probably not going to be there, and it’s closest.”

“Okay,” Harriet agreed, watching her friend’s back with mixed worry and curiosity as she followed him back down the corridor the way they had come.

## * * * *

Five minutes later, Harriet and Scott were lying on their backs, side by side, on the large rug in the middle of the floor of Professor Stratton’s classroom. They were staring up at the underside of the large model Viking long-ship that was hanging from the ceiling.

 “So, you _do_ like boys?”

“Yeah…”

“And you like girls, too?”

Scott sighed. “Yeah, I do… but just… not as much, you know?”

“So like… Atsuko and Hermione?”

Scott shifted uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I do like them—I mean—they’re both _really_ cute, and both so smart, and caring, and—” Scott sighed again sitting up “—but then like… there’s some guys and it’s just like… I hear their voice and it’s so deep and smooth and I think about their strong arms and it’s just… UGH!” Scott flopped back down on his back, groaning. “Life is hard,” he muttered.

Harriet snorted, propping herself on her elbows to look down at him proper. “Tell me about it…”

“So… you don’t hate me?” Scott asked, looking up at her.

“Of course not,” Harriet said immediately. “Why would I?”

“I dunno,” Scott muttered. “For not telling you?”

“Well… why didn’t you tell me?” Harriet asked.

“I guess… the way you always acted around Dora whenever she flirts with you,” Scott admitted. “Made me think you like… weren’t that cool about it. From what I’ve heard of your aunt and uncle, I kinda figured you didn’t grow up with the best view of…well… people like me.”

Harriet shrugged. “To be honest, I didn’t really know _anything_ about it until Dora kinda…”

“Heh, yeah, say no more there,” Scott chortled.

They sniggered for a few moments when Harriet started thinking again. “But you told Kieran, Marcus and Hermione?”

“Well, Kieran’s known since we were real little kids.”

“How’d he find out?”

Scott shifted again. “I… well I didn’t really know any better about keeping things quiet back then, so whenever we’d play around and stuff I’d always kind of want to be the prince the handsome knight comes to rescue…”

“Awwwwww!” Harriet exclaimed.

Scott blushed as red as the Gryffindor banners in the Great Hall. “Oh hush. I was a kid…”

“But that’s so cute!”

“Really?” Scott asked, raising his eyebrows sceptically.

“Really!”

Scott kept blushing, but his smile grew. “He kept that secret for me for _years_ … in fact I still don’t think he’s told anyone, even though he knows I’ve told other people.”

Harriet didn’t say anything at first as she simply digested Scott’s words. She was remembering what Kieran had said at the Yule Ball after Alessa had hurt his leg. He had said Alessa had a secret, and that he couldn’t tell anyone because if he did, how could Harriet trust him with her secret? Harriet began pondering just how many secrets he was keeping inside. She suddenly had a vision of Kieran being slowly inflated just like Aunt Marge from all the secrets, and she started to feel a bit guilty about having added to his burden.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Scott asked.

“Hm?”

“Well, something terrible just happened yesterday, and this is all I can think about…”

“Maybe,” Harriet shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s like… we could have died… and I guess I just feel like I can’t keep it in… in case something happens, you know?”

They lay there in silence for a few minutes. Harriet was thinking. Why was it so easy for Scott to tell her now about his secret? Why did she still feel as though she couldn’t tell him hers?

_Well, your stuff you can keep in secret,_ the little voice in Harriet’s head told her. _Scott suddenly walking down the hall hand-in-hand with another boy would probably be a bit more obvious, wouldn’t it?_

_It would,_ Harriet thought back. _But still… I shouldn’t have to hide either. What_ is _wrong with me, anyway?_

_You know exactly what’s wrong… FREAK!_

The word jolted Harriet back to her senses. Scott was still staring at the ship and apparently hadn’t noticed. Harriet studied him for a few moments when something else occurred to her.

“So… if you have to keep it a secret because of your family… how come Dora doesn’t? She’s from an old and proud family too.”

Scott scowled slightly. “Because Dora doesn’t _have_ to worry about it. Dora’s a girl… she’s not really expected to carry on the family name anyway. So she can pretty much do what she wants.”

“Wow…” Harriet murmured, looking up at the hanging ship sadly. “That’s so sad… for you I mean…”

Scott sighed. “Not like I think Dora should have to keep it in. I just… wish I could be as open.”

Another silence fell over the pair. Harriet just kept looking at Scott, seeing him through entirely new eyes. So many things about Scott she’d always puzzled over made perfect sense to her now. She understood not only why Scott had always been so aloof with her, but more importantly, she now understood why he was always out in the woods when he was at home, why he never really liked to be around his family. He was afraid.

Harriet wanted to say something about it, but the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, she tried to fish around for something else to say.

“So, you said Hermione, Kieran, and Marcus know… Who else knows?” she asked, doing her best to sound as though she was genuinely interested, rather than accusing.

Scott thought for a moment. “Well, I told Atsuko… for the same reason I told Hermione, because I sort of felt like I was stringing them along…”

“Ohhhhhh, that’s why they both sort of backed off, then?”

Scott nodded. “They were both cool about it, and they agreed to give me some space until I… you know… figure things out. Though, I dunno… I don’t think I have either of them to worry about anymore.”

“Why do you say that?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Because Atsuko’s pretty taken with that Mount Phoenix boy; the one who played the piano at the Hallowe’en party, Marius. And Hermione and Marcus are so going to be a thing soon.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, before pausing and thinking. “They _do_ spend a lot of time together… and write to each other a lot… and danced together… yeah okay, I see what you mean.”

Scott laughed.

“Though, speaking of, what about Marcus? How did he learn about it?”

“I kinda told him the summer after our first year. He came up and stayed with Kieran and me. I suppose I just figured he should know what he was getting into… you know? As for Dora: she guessed, because of course she did. And Ronnie, well… Ronnie’s Ronnie. She doesn’t really notice anything that’s not right in her face.”

Harriet twisted her lips.

“Don’t get me wrong!” Scott said quickly. “I love Ronnie to death, but she does kind of have—I think they call it tunnel-vision. Like if things aren’t directly affecting her she just doesn’t really care much. Honestly… I kind of envy it…”

Harriet snorted. “Yeah, well hey, I sort of need to be beaten over the head with stuff to get it, too.”

Scott snorted. “Well, you were raised in a crazy, abusive house. No one blames you for not picking up on things. Sorry if I probably come across as a bit of an ass sometimes, though…”

“You’re fine,” Harriet said. “I gotta learn sometime I guess.”

“Can I ask something?” Scott queried.

“Sure.”

“What _do_ you think about Dora?”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm, quickly. “I… honestly I don’t know. I mean… she’s really fun, and she’s attractive for a girl…”

“But you just don’t feel the same way?”

Harriet shook her head. “Not really… then again… I guess I just don’t know, either.”

“Yeah, it’s just a little obvious that it makes you uncomfortable… but then she kissed you at the Yule Ball and you didn’t seem that upset by it.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t… and I liked it, actually. I think it’s because she went about it a lot differently at the Yule Ball. She was nice and calm and like…”

“Wasn’t so in your face about it?”

“Yeah.” Harriet thought before sniffing irritably. “I just… I don’t know, it’s kind of scary.”

“It is…” Scott agreed.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes. Then, something came to Harriet’s mind that brought a more than mischievous smile to her face.

“So…”

“So?”

“You and Colm…?”

Harriet could see Scott’s cheeks turning very red.

“Well, y-yeah… he umm… he’s really nice… oof, that voice…”

Harriet smiled. “Yeah, like milk.”

Scott laughed. “Mmmhmmm… and he has a really nice butt.”

“Scott!” Harriet laughed.

“Well he does!” Scott exclaimed.

Harriet kept laughing, feeling better than she had since returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays.

“Scott likes Cooo-olm, Scott likes Cooo-olm,” Harriet giggled in a little sing-song.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because that wasn’t you getting all giggly over his brother.”

Harriet stopped giggling.

Scott however gave her a kind smile. “Yeah… I like him. Colm, I mean. He’s sweet, and we’ve been writing a lot.”

“Awwww,” Harriet smiled, her tone sincere this time.

“You know Finn still likes you, right?” Scott asked, giving Harriet a sideways glance.

Harriet blushed. All at once, her memory of the dream came washing back over her: Finn’s soft, smooth voice in her ear, his strong arms holding her close, the tight bonds.

_Dove._

“Really?” Harriet asked, trying and failing miserably at sounding nonchalant.

“Yeah, I guess he still tells people how you danced with him, how you two have been writing, stuff like that.”

Harriet smiled a little to herself. Then, she sniffed and her smile vanished.

“Thought he didn’t like fame?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t like people who act all stuck up and try to be famous. You’re someone who is famous but you don’t act like it and you just treated him like another person. That really meant the world to him.”

Scott sat up, looking at Harriet quizzically. “You do like him, don’t you?”

Harriet thought. “I… I think I do… but I mean… there’s also Fred… who’s right here… and like… Finn said at the Yule Ball that I should be with Fred.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Colm said Finn sulked for a week after that.”

“He did…?” Harriet asked, frowning a little and thinking. “Well, Ginny seemed to like him.”

“He’s like… three years older than Ginny!”

Harriet looked at Scott curiously. “Why are you pushing this?”

Scott shrugged. “I don’t know… I guess you just seemed so much more yourself at the Hallowe’en party with Finn than with anyone else I’ve seen who’s interested in you. He just likes you and I think he even understands you pretty well, from what Colm’s been telling me.”

Harriet sighed a little.

“Sorry,” Scott said. “Anyway, I was just thinking…”

“’Bout what?”

“Well, if you did end up with Finn… and I end up with Colm… we’d be in-laws.”

This made Harriet smile more. Then she giggled again. “Yeah, but then we couldn’t have our kids get married.”

“Meh, that’s thinking too far ahead,” Scott said waving a hand dismissively. However, instead of dropping the hand, Scott reached over and took one of Harriet’s.

“No more secrets between friends?” Scott asked.

Harriet thought. She immediately felt rather awkward. She wanted to agree, but she had a secret herself that she just wasn’t ready to tell him yet. No, it wasn’t that she wasn’t ready to tell Scott. The fact was there was one other person who Harriet needed to tell first: Sirius.

## * * * *

Hogwarts was understandably subdued the following Monday. There was hardly any laughter in the Great Hall during meals, or the corridors between classes. The students were all unnaturally quiet during lessons, and the teachers didn’t seem to have any heart in their lectures. Even Professor McGonagall seemed to have a hard time focusing during _Transfiguration_.

Tuesday was no different. However, in the library, there was one table where a considerable amount of giggling was going on. Despite the horrible events of Kinney’s attack on Hogsmeade, Harriet found herself closer to Scott than she’d ever been, and was much the happier for it.

Presently, they were playing their new favourite game. Harriet would quiz Scott about the guys he found attractive, while Scott in turn would quiz her about girls. Harriet still was not at all certain how she felt about other girls, but it was oddly liberating to joke about.

 “Cedric?” Harriet asked as she and Scott sat in the library the afternoon of the following Thursday.

“Ugh, he’s _too_ much of a goody-goody.”

“But he’s a _pretty_ goody-good,” Harriet teased.

“True…” Scott mused. “What about… Ari Miller?”

“Ugh, Ari Miller’s _too_ pretty, I’d probably just sort of sit there and stare. Plus, she and Taylor are way too cute together.”

“Touché,” Scott laughed.

“Hmmm,” Harriet thought. “Okay I think we’ve gone through all the guys in school just about, how about I quiz you on girls, now?”

“Fair enough,” Scott grinned.                             

“Hmmmmm, how about… Charity Delacour?”

“Ooooo, good choice,” Scott nodded. “Ninety percent of her cousin’s looks, but only 10% of her attitude.”

“You’re giving percentages on looks?” Harriet asked raising her eyebrows.

“Oh hush,” Scott snorted. “You know what I mean. I think of everything in percentages.”

Harriet giggled.

“Okay then… hmmmm… Dra—no… not him…”

Harriet raised her eyebrows even higher. “Malfoy?”

“Yeah,” Scott muttered. “He did like you—I think—but now he’s like one hundred percent into that American girl, Kenley Tyler.”

“Is that it?” Harriet asked.

“Oh yeah,” Scott said.

“But they, like… they’re always arguing.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Well _yeah_ … because she’s trying to help him be a ‘better person’ so that you might like him better.”

Harriet snorted in surprise. “Really? Like… he actually thinks that’ll work?”

“Not really…”

“Then why isn’t he just going all in on Kenley?”

“Heh,” Scott scoffed. “You really think _Draco Malfoy_ is going to admit he fancies a Muggle-born? I mean… can you imagine what his dad would do, if he did?”

“Good point,” Harriet agreed. “So that’s why he was sitting next to her bed that night?”

“ _Oooohhh_ yeah,” Scott said impressively. “Plus, Damien Mallory said that Kenley gave him a get well card after that Quidditch match back in second year. You know where he broke his arm and Lockhart vanished his bones?”

“Heh, how could I forget?”

“Well, Damien said that Draco keeps it under his pillow.”

“Still? It’s been two years.”

“Yep, still,” Scott replied.

“Wow…” Harriet muttered. “Yeah… you know his dad has been trying to push him to be ‘overly’ nice to me, I think he said.”

“Is that why he was being so weird at the World Cup?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet grumbled. “Remember when I went to Diagon Alley via _Floo Powder_ the summer before our second year? I wound up in _Borgin and Burke’s_ and I ended up overhearing Draco and his dad talking. His dad told Draco that he had to be extra nice to me, because it would be like… I don’t know… it would look good or something.”

“What a snake,” Scott gasped. “Yeah, it would look good. The Malfoys are famous for supporting the Dark Arts.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Yeah, well their son getting all cozy with the Girl Who Lived would get rid of a lot of suspicion, I’ll bet.”

Harriet crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair and scowling. “Yeah… jerk. Well… at least Draco doesn’t seem that genuinely interested.” Harriet gave a snort of laughter. “Actually, I don’t know how to feel about that… flattered or insulted.”

Scott chortled. “I’d say flattered. You can do _so_ much better. Fred, Finn, _or_ Dora.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, unable to keep the scepticism out of her voice.

“Oh stop it,” Scott snorted. “Seriously, you so are. Fred’s crazy about you, he’s lots of fun, he’s really smart, and I think he’s going to really make something of himself.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. He’s dedicated to his passions and goals, and look at how much money Zonko’s… heh, well let’s just say there’s money in what he wants to do. Then there’s Finn, I mean Finn’s definitely into you, and he’s sweet and lots of fun too.”

“But he’s not going anywhere?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “You’re always so negative,” he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harriet replied, laughing too.

“Well anyway, and then there’s Dora who would probably do anything for you.”

“But I thought you were helping with the whole her and Ronnie thing?”

Scott shrugged. “Well, to be fair, until now I thought you really weren’t into her either, but I mean, if you are…”

“Yeah… guess I’ll have to figure that out…” Harriet muttered, wondering if relationships would ever possibly make sense.

_Clunk_.

The tell-tale sound of Professor Moody’s clawed wooden foot clunking down on the stone floor made both of them jump. They turned around to see Professor Moody stepping out from behind a bookcase.

“Hello, Potter,” Professor Moody said in his scratchy voice. “It’s time.”

“Time?” Harriet asked when suddenly her eyes snapped open in remembrance. She had her first private lesson with Professor Moody. In fact, it was supposed to have started five minutes ago.

Harriet jumped up out of her seat, panic rising inside her.

“I’m sorry, Professor! I totally forgot!”

Harriet felt a deep sense of dread as she looked up into Professor Moody’s gnarled, asymmetrical face. Her mind recalled all too readily the image of Draco Malfoy turned into a bouncing, white ferret.

Professor Moody did not turn her into a ferret. However, he still did not look terribly happy. “Well, come along then. No time to wait. Kinney or the Dark Lord certainly won’t…”

Harriet swallowed. She glanced back at Scott who gave her his best attempt at an optimistic smile. Harriet quickly picked up her bag and hurried off after Professor Moody who had already started clunking away. She fell into an awkward step beside him as they made their way silently down the halls towards Professor Moody’s office.

“So,” Harriet started, looking for some way to break the thick silence. “What sort of things are we going to be learning, Professor?”

Professor Moody snorted. “Quite a few spells, I should think. They’ll be hard, and perhaps not entirely legal, but Dumbledore cares more about you being alive than he does about the law.”

Harriet swallowed again.

## * * * *

“Damn good work, Potter! Damn good work!”

It was Thursday night, Harriet was panting slightly, lowering her now very sore wand arm. It wasn’t just her arm that was sore. Nearly her entire body was pained and she winced as her knees trembled slightly.

Professor Moody had spent all Tuesday night, and all of Thursday night drilling her on the Shield Charm, _Protego._ Professor Moody had explained how this was one of the most critical spells that witches and wizards could learn to protect themselves; capable of blocking nearly all spells except the very worst. To give her proper ‘incentive’ to perform the charm correctly, Professor Moody was using the Stinging Hex.

“So sore,” Harriet muttered, massaging the shoulder.

“Here, I suppose we have earned ourselves a little break, then,” Professor Moody said, stumping over and sitting behind his desk.

He leaned down, opening one of his drawers, pulling out a bottle of butterbeer and setting it on the desk in front of her. Harriet couldn’t help but smile as she saw it. It wasn’t just her thirst that brought the smile. It was how this reminded her of the previous year, when Remus had been teaching her the Patronus Charm, and often ended lessons with a bottle of Butterbeer.

She reached for it when a little voice in the back of her mind made her pause. Professor Moody always warned them not to drink from anything offered by someone else. She looked up at Professor Moody who was studying her closely.

“Is this a test?” Harriet asked, cautiously.

Professor Moody’s face broke into a grin.

“Very good, Potter, very good,” he said proudly, slapping his palm down on the top of his desk. “It was, and wasn’t. The butterbeer is fine, but you’re damned right to be cautious. As I’ve said many times it’s why I only drink from my own private hip-flask.”

Professor Moody drew his hip-flask and waggled it a little for emphasis. He gave it a disapproving look.

“Dammit-all,” he grumbled. “Running low. So, Potter, you’ve made good progress on the practical side of casting the shield-charm, but let’s focus on the theory a bit, shall we?”

“Okay, sir,” Harriet said.

“Right then, if the charm isn’t capable of stopping the most dangerous of spells, why am I teaching it to you at all?”

Harriet thought. “Well, like… not everyone wants to kill people to harm them?” Harriet half-answered, half-asked.

Professor Moody smiled wider. “Quite right. Sometimes in duels, your opponent is trying to catch you off guard; make you stumble, because even though the most dangerous spells can’t be blocked by magic, they can be blocked by obstructions, or dodged.”

Professor Moody patted his false-leg. “Not that I’m so good at the dodging part anymore,” he barked with laughter. “But if they can hit you with a good solid Stinging Hex and trip you up, they’ve got you. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

Harriet felt her heart skip. She wondered if she would ever get used to Professor Moody shouting that at them at random.

“So, Professor?” Harriet asked, recalling something else she’d been meaning to ask Professor Moody for a while. “Do you really think I could be an Auror?”

“Why yes, yes I do,” Professor Moody said leaning back in his chair. “And a damned good one too if you put your mind to it.”

Harriet smiled sheepishly.

“Now then, while we’re on the subject of Aurors, it’s important for an Auror to understand dark spells,” Professor Moody said importantly, leaning forward onto his desk again.

“So you can spot them and know how to face them?” Harriet asked.

“Not entirely,” Professor Moody said, his voice very serious, both his asymmetrical eyes now fixed on her face. “Sometimes, Harriet, Aurors have to know how to cast them themselves. Now you’re a long ways off from that, but it’s important that you understand that the world of “good magic” and “dark magic” is mostly fairy stories made up for you kids to keep you in line.”

“Sir?” Harriet asked. She was beginning to feel a distinct sensation of apprehension in the back of her mind.

“When I was an Auror, in the final days of the Dark Lord, we finally had to fight fire with fire. Now, old Professor Moody never killed, when he could avoid it,” Professor Moody said, pointing a finger right at Harriet’s nose. “Unfortunately, that was not always the case.”

Harriet twisted her lips, but she could not take her eyes off of Professor Moody’s. It was in that moment that a deeply unsettling feeling came over Harriet. Professor Moody basically just admitted right to Harriet’s face that he had killed someone before. Someone she had come to associate with the best in the world, a close friend of Daniel and Professor Dumbledore, had killed someone.

Harriet’s stomach clenched. At the same time that Professor Moody had been an Auror, and had apparently killed people, Daniel had also been an Auror. A dark, horrible thought came over Harriet and she did her best to immediately start trying to push it out of her mind.

“More than a few of them gave me no choice,” Professor Moody continued, finally distracting Harriet. “I never enjoyed it, but I’d be a damned liar if I didn’t say that I found at least one of them incredibly useful.”

“One of what, sir?” Harriet asked.

“The Unforgiveable Curses,” Professor Moody explained. “We Aurors were given the license to perform them if needed. You’ve dealt with the least of them already, _Imperio_. I won’t start tonight, but it is a curse that could become damned useful to you in the future, particularly where Solomon Kinney is concerned.”

Harriet furrowed her eyebrows. Was Professor Moody suggesting what Harriet thought he was suggesting?

“Sir, are you really saying you’re going to teach me how to do the Imperius Curse?”

“Damned right,” Professor Moody said.

“But—but it’s illegal,” Harriet said automatically.

“So’s doing underage magic, but you know darn well that has its loopholes, doesn’t it?” Professor Moody retorted.

Harriet pursed her lips as she pondered Professor Moody’s point.

“This isn’t kids’ stuff anymore, Potter,” Professor Moody continued. “You’ve seen what people like Solomon Kinney are capable of first hand. You’ve seen him murder a man right in front of you, and now you’ve seen him burn down an entire village. He’s a metamorphmagus, he can literally be _anyone_ around you. If I were you, I’d start assuming anyone and everyone could be Kinney at any time.”

“But, why would that make the Imperius Curse important for me to know?”

“Because it’s about the only spell that can force a metamorphmagus to reveal themselves,” Professor Moody said impressively.

Harriet nodded slowly. It made sense, but she still did not like it one bit.

“Well, if you don’t like that option, I can always teach you the Cruciatus Curse so you can torture the information out of them,” Professor Moody said, his voice full of irony.

Harriet blinked. “Well… I guess when you put it like that…”

Professor Moody grinned. Just then, Harriet winced and looked down at her right wrist. She’d just felt a sharp pain as if a burn, or perhaps a bee-sting. She looked at her wrist and saw a hint of the bracelet that Fred had given her for Christmas their third year. It was so red it was almost glowing.

“Alright, there, Potter?” Professor Moody asked.

“Oh, yes sir,” Harriet said, rubbing her wrist as the pain receded. “Just bit sore from all the practice.”

“Right, well then, I suppose it is a bit late, isn’t it?” Professor Moody said.

Harriet looked down at her wrist again. The bracelet was still bright red. She didn’t know why she wasn’t telling Professor Moody about the bracelet. She puzzled over herself for a moment. She had lied very quickly, almost too quickly it felt like.

“Well on you get then, Potter,” Professor Moody said. “Next session at noon on Saturday, and be prepared, it’s going to be a much longer session.”

Harriet felt her cheek muscles tighten with apprehension once more.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, rising from her chair.

Professor Moody waved her off. Harriet stepped out of the door. For some reason, Harriet felt a strong compulsion to move away from Professor Moody’s office as quickly as she could. She began walking as fast as she could go without running, back to Gryffindor Tower. The entire way, she had the eerie sensation that someone was watching her. She imagined Professor Moody’s magical eye was upon her, keeping track of her progress as she made her way through the school.

The common room was mostly empty by the time Harriet arrived. Kieran, Marcus, Hermione and Ronnie were sitting by the fire and waved her over.

“How was tonight?” Kieran asked as Harriet joined them.

“The lessons were okay; I’m really getting the hang of the Shield Charm.”

“Wonderful,” Hermione said.

“You’ll have to teach the rest of us,” Marcus added.

Harriet still felt quite flustered. She didn’t have time to talk about the lesson. She looked down at her bracelet. It had gone back to its usual, shiny silver.

“I have to tell you all something,” Harriet said, doing her best to sound urgent while also whispering to keep the Creevey brothers, who were sitting nearby, from overhearing.

“What’s up?” Ronnie asked as they all leant in to listen.

“After the practical lesson,” Harriet began to explain “Moody was teaching me some theory. He was telling me about the Imperius Curse, and how it might be useful against Kinney.”

“He was telling you what?!” Hermione gasped, causing the Creevey brothers to jump.

“Shhhhh,” Harriet hissed. “That’s not what’s important.”

“That sounds pretty important to me,” Marcus insisted.

“Well it is but this is more important! In fact, it’s possibly related!”

“Let her talk, guys,” Kieran said, sounding as disgruntled as Harriet felt.

“Thank you,” Harriet said before she continued. “Okay, so while he was telling me that, remember this?” Harriet held up her wrist to show them the bracelet.

“Didn’t Fred give you that?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “Well… both times now that I’ve been alone with Professor Moody, it has turned red. In fact, tonight it actually burned me.”

Marcus whistled.

“Well,” Kieran said, trying to sound reasonable. “I mean… when you first spoke with him… wasn’t he giving you hints about the first task? And just now… he was telling you about having to teach you a curse that’s well…”

“Yeah, illegal,” Marcus said crossing his arms.

“Yes, I know,” Harriet said. “But this was _different_. I mean this thing _really_ hurt,” Harriet went on, waving the bracelet in their faces again. “Like it was really trying to tell me something, like it really, really wanted my attention.”

They all gave each other uneasy looks.

“You should write to Daniel,” Kieran said.

“But Professor Moody was once his teacher,” Harriet said. “And I don’t even know what Professor Moody could possibly be doing that set him off?”

“Maybe it isn’t Moody,” Marcus said thoughtfully.

“How so?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I mean what if it’s like back in second year?” Marcus explained. “Harriet kept hearing the basilisk in the pipes at strange times… maybe there’s someone else around the school. Maybe someone else is listening in on the lessons?”

“Maybe,” Harriet said. “But wouldn’t Professor Moody see them with his eye?”

“Not necessarily,” Hermione chimed in. “Not if he’s paying too much attention to teaching you. He does take defensive magic very seriously after all.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Harriet said, sighing and leaning back against the couch.

“If it happens again at the next lesson, maybe just ask Professor Moody to take a look around?” Kieran suggested.

“Um, no?” Ronnie said.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Well, _duh_ ,” Ronnie said. “We don’t know if it is Moody, right? What if he is up to no good and we like totally give away that we’re on to him?”

Everyone was looking at Ronnie with mixed expressions of amazement and surprise.

“That’s… wow that’s a really good point,” Marcus said.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Hello, who here grew up with Fred and George? I know all about trying to get away with stuff.”

They fell into silence, thinking harder.

“Well, we’ll think of something,” Kieran said. “There’s something else even more important I think we need to start focusing on.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

“The second task is only a month away,” Kieran replied.

“Oh yeah…” Harriet muttered. “That…”

## * * * *

Harriet groaned as she slowly lowered herself into bed. It was Saturday and Harriet had just finished an extra-long session with Professor Moody. Not much had changed over the course of the week. The school was still quiet, yet full of the whispers about Solomon Kinney. The worst thing was, to Harriet’s way of thinking, that none of them knew the whole story about Solomon Kinney. None of them knew that he was also a metamorphmagus.

“ _No, that would just make it worse_ ,” Scott had told Harriet when she confided this to him. “ _If people knew Kinney could be anybody, that would just make everyone panic I’d think. No one would trust anyone else.”_

It wasn’t just Kinney that was dragging down Harriet’s spirits. There was also the looming second task. Harriet knew that Sirius had pulled strings with Professor Snape to get her a secret way to complete the task, but now that was likely lost in the fire as well.

The other thing that was nagging at Harriet was that Dora was still not talking to Hermione. Knowing full well how long Dora could hold grudges, Harriet was sure that Dora was not going to let it go anytime soon. Hermione on the other hand didn’t seem as though she was going to apologize anytime soon. She kept insisting that Dora was far too accepting of the darker elements of wizarding society, and so she had nothing to apologize for. Harriet on the other hand was beginning to get more than a little frustrated with both of them.

Finally, there was the lessons with Professor Moody. This time, satisfied in Harriet’s progress with the Shield Charm, Professor Moody was now teaching her the Impediment Jinx, _Impedimenta._ They spent hours in Professor Moody’s office, Professor Moody making objects fly across the room for Harriet to hit with the jinx.

Harriet had done her best to check her bracelet without Professor Moody noticing throughout the lesson. However, while the bracelet had turned red, it was not as bright, nor had it burned as it had Thursday night.

Harriet sighed staring at the ceiling of her four-poster bed. What did it mean? Was it just as simple as the bracelet turning red because Professor Moody was teaching her magic he shouldn’t? What else could it possibly be? Professor Dumbledore and Daniel both trusted Professor Moody. All of the teachers seemed to, except for Professor Snape.

Harriet sat up. Everyone else in the room was sound asleep by the sound of it. She slid out of bed and moved to her trunk as quietly as she could. She opened it and rummaged around before finally finding what she was looking for: The Marauder’s Map.

Harriet slowly snuck back into her bed, closing her bed curtains and turning up the oil lamp above her headboard. As she did, DIDS hissed irritably from his sleeping spot on her pillow and crawled off and under it. She picked up her wand, unfolded the aged parchment, and tapped it with her wand.

“I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” Harriet said.

Instantly, from the point her wand touched, the enchanted ink began to appear, revealing the magical map of Hogwarts. Harriet leaned down over it, studying the map closely.

The halls of the school were empty. At least mostly empty. Peeves the Poltergeist was bouncing around the trophy room, most likely wrecking every display. Two corridors away was Filch and his cat, Mrs Norris. They were heading straight for Peeves, Mrs Norris in the lead. She’d clearly heard the ruckus and was guiding Filch to the source of the chaos.

Harriet wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She supposed for a sign of Solomon Kinney sneaking through the school at night.

Would the map show him, though? It showed people who were under invisibility cloaks, she knew, but did it work on metamorphmagi? She supposed it would, as it had worked on animagi, too. Daniel and Remus had said it showed Wormtail on the map, as well as Sirius.

The first thing Harriet checked was Professor Moody. If he was awake, his magical eye could be a problem. Harriet wasn’t sure how far it could see through objects. It could see through the whole castle as far as she knew.

She found Professor Moody in his office, but not moving. She wondered if he slept there instead of his bedchamber. Perhaps he found sleeping in his bedroom too obvious, so he slept somewhere else to throw off potential attackers.

Harriet sighed. She was just about to put the map away when something caught her eye. Someone was moving around in Professor Snape’s office, but it wasn’t Professor Snape.

Harriet’s jaw dropped. The tiny dot was labelled “Bartemius Crouch.”

Harriet sat bolt upright. What was Mr Crouch doing up here at Hogwarts in the middle of the night, rummaging around Professor Snape’s office. Did Professor Snape know? Maybe Mr Crouch was visiting the school, and needed something for a potion? No, that didn’t make any sense. Someone as important as Mr Crouch would have just asked Professor Snape to make the potion for him, wouldn’t he? Although, Percy had said that Mr Crouch was taken ill. Maybe it was something he needed very badly for a cure?

Harriet’s curiosity was filling her just as quickly as her exhaustion was leaving her. Before she was even aware of what she was doing, Harriet had slipped back out of her bed and drawn her invisibility cloak from the trunk. She twirled it up over her head, seeing herself disappear in the full-length mirror on the back of their dormitory door.

Harriet picked up the map and her wand, and as quietly as she could, she began to move down the stairs. She padded across the common room and out through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was sleeping, and so did not raise the alarm as Harriet snuck from the common room.

“Stupid,” Harriet muttered under her breath as the portrait hole swung closed again. She would have to wake the Fat Lady to get back in after she was done investigating. She was sure to be in for a real telling off.

Harriet checked the map again. Crouch was still in Professor Snape’s office. Harriet kept moving closer, constantly checking the coast was clear on the map. Filch and Mrs Norris were still chasing after Peeves. She breathed a sigh of relief as she continued to descend the stairs towards Professor Snape’s office. It was then that something else on the map made her pause.

She just saw Professor Dumbledore’s office. Despite the late hour, Professor Dumbledore was awake. He was quite alone in his study, but his dot was pacing furiously back and forth across the floor of his study. He kept moving along the same path, so he didn’t seem as though he was working. It looked more as though he was worried about something, thinking hard. Harriet supposed it was worry over the attack, worrying that Kinney might attack the school next.

That wasn’t all that struck Harriet, however. It was realizing how worried Professor Dumbledore must be, and yet seeing that he was entirely alone. She supposed there were the portraits, but how much company and comfort could a portrait really offer?

Distracted, Harriet wasn’t paying attention as she rounded a corner. She grunted and there was an ear-shattering amount of clanging that echoed all over the corridors as she walked straight into a suit of armour, toppling it. Panicking now, Harriet scrambled to her feet and looked around. She had to either run for it, or hide somewhere. There was an open door nearby.

Harriet hurried into the room as quickly as she could, hiding behind the door and closing her eyes, trying to steady her breath.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , Harriet repeated over and over to herself. How could she have been so careless? She’d wandered the halls at night at least a dozen times, and she’d never done anything so stupid before. Well, she ran into Dora once.

Sure enough, within a minute there came the sound of Filch’s flapping feet and the jingling of Mrs Norris’ collar.

“Another one!” Filch declared, stopping at the collapsed armour. “Fifth one tonight! I’ll have Peeves for this! Mark my words!”

“Filch?”

Harriet clamped a hand over her mouth. It was Professor Snape.

“What is going on?” Professor Snape asked. “Who knocked this suit of armour over, did you see, Filch?”

“It was Peeves, Professor,” Filch replied. “We’ve been after him all night. He was just in the trophy room.”

“Forget about the cursed poltergeist,” Professor Snape snarled. “There’s far more urgent matters.”

“What’s wrong, Professor?” Filch asked.

“Someone has been in my office, Filch,” Professor Snape said.

“Peeves has been in your office, Professor?”

“Of course he hasn’t! Believe it or not it is possible for something to happen in this school that does _not_ involve that infernal poltergeist! I lock my door magically, none but a wizard could get in.”

“A wizard?” Filch asked. “But who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out!” Professor Snape barked impatiently.

_Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._

Professor Moody had arrived. Harriet clenched her eyes. Professor Moody could see through walls, surely he would see Harriet hiding inside the classroom right next to them. Would he give her away?

“The devil’s going on up here,” Professor Moody asked. “Aahhh… Snape… having a little pyjama party are we?”

“Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor,” Filch said. “Peeves the poltergeist has been up to his usual mayhem and Professor Snape discovered someone had broken into his off—”

“Shut up!” Professor Snape hissed.

“Did I hear that correctly, Snape?” Professor Moody asked. “Someone broke into your office?”

“It is unimportant,” Professor Snape said, his tone clear that he did not wish to continue the conversation.

“On the contrary,” Professor Moody said. “It is very important. Who’d want to break into your office?”

“A student, I daresay,” Professor Snape said. “It is not the first time. A student attempting an illicit potion, no doubt.”

“After potion ingredients, you say?” Professor Moody mused. “Are you sure? Sure you don’t have someone else in there you don’t want found?”

“You know I’m hiding nothing, Moody,” Professor Snape retorted. “You’ve already searched my office quite thoroughly… even though you only needed to look with that damned eye of yours.”

Harriet risked peeking out through the cracked open door. Professor Moody’s back was to her, but she could see the look on Professor Snape’s face. He looked even paler than usual. She could even see a vein in his temple, just under the edge of his greasy black hair.

“Auror’s privilege,” Professor Moody said, and Harriet could hear the smile in his voice. “Dumbledore told me to keep an eye—”

“Dumbledore happens to trust me,” Professor Snape snapped. “I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!”

“’Course Dumbledore trusts you… trusting man, isn’t he?” Professor Moody growled. “Believes in second chances he does. But not me… I think there are some spots that don’t come off… some that _never_ come off, if’n you get me?”

Professor Snape’s jaw clenched and Harriet watched his right hand dart quickly to his left arm. He gripped his forearm tightly, as though pained.

Professor Moody gave a dark laugh. “Get back to bed, Snape.”

“You don’t have the authority to send me anywhere!” Professor Snape hissed. He released his arm, shaking out his sleeve and scowling at Professor Moody. “I have just as much a right to prowl the school at night as you do.”

“Prowl away,” Professor Moody said. “Keep an eye out though… never know who you might meet in a dark corridor…”

Professor Snape kept scowling, though he looked almost ill. He turned and hurried off down the corridor. He seemed as though he was trying to move like Harriet had after her bracelet had burned her, trying to move as fast as he could without running.

“Go on, Filch, go chase your windmill,” Professor Moody said, waving a dismissive hand.

“My what?” Filch asked, bemused.

“Just get out of here,” Professor Moody growled.

Filch swallowed and quickly hurried away without another word and Mrs Norris scampered along behind him.

Professor Moody did not move for a full minute after Filch left. Harriet kept watching him through the crack, standing and leaning on his cane.

“Right then,” Professor Moody said. “They’re gone. You can come on out now, Potter.”

Harriet’s heart sank. Professor Moody had seen her. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for being turned into something horrible as she stepped back into the corridor.

“That cloak does come in handy, doesn’t it?” Professor Moody said as he turned around to look at her.

“It—it does, sir,” Harriet said, sliding the cloak off of her head.

“And what exactly are you doing up at this hour, wandering the halls?” Professor Moody asked.

Harriet swallowed as she thought. Should she tell him about Crouch? That would mean revealing the map. She supposed she should give the map to Professor Moody anyway, she imagined it would be very useful. On the other hand, Professor Moody had his magical eye. That was almost even better, and Harriet didn’t feel like parting with the map. She thought hard and inspiration struck her.

“I… I was going to um… I was on my way to Professor Snape’s office.”

Professor Moody raised his eyebrows. “You were, were you? And what were you after?”

“Um… I um… I was looking for ideas on how to get down to the mermaids in the lake for the second task.”

Professor Moody’s face broke into his (rather horrible) lopsided grin. “Ahhh excellent, yes, I can’t imagine Professor Snape would part with any of his gillyweed willingly.”

“Oh, yes,” Harriet said, nodding as she tried to pretend as though she knew exactly what gillyweed was when really, she didn’t have the faintest idea.

“Well, doesn’t look as though you’ll get any tonight,” Professor Moody said. “Snape’s back in his office already.”

“Oh,” Harriet said, trying to sound disappointed.

“Well, you have a month, I’m sure you’ll get a hold of some in time,” Professor Moody said, patting her shoulder consoling. “Though you can understand if I’d rather you tried it in a bit more legal method next time, right?”

“Right, sir,” Harriet replied.

“Excellent. Now, back you get to bed. Need plenty of rest before our next session next Tuesday.”

Harriet nodded, relief washing over her. “Yes, sir. I look forward to it, sir.”

Professor Moody simply smiled before turning and clunking off towards his own office. Harriet immediately began heading back towards Gryffindor Tower. She couldn’t believe her luck. She wasn’t in trouble, and she still had her map.

However, what was Crouch up to then? Maybe Harriet was right, after all, Crouch needed something for a potion for his illness. Maybe it was something controlled or illegal that he couldn’t get otherwise. Or something embarrassing that he didn’t want people to know he needed?

Just then, Harriet paused. She lifted her right hand, looking at her wrist. She managed to stop and look just in time to see the bracelet slowly turning back to silver from red.


	30. The Second Task

“Sometimes we go to great lengths for those whom we love most, often with no regard for ourselves. It is important to remember, as the person receiving this love, that we must return such feelings in equal measure through our own actions of compassion and support rather than attempting to do so through material means.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet grimaced as she returned to Gryffindor Tower, preparing herself to face the wrath of the Fat Lady. However, to Harriet’s surprise, the portrait hole was already open when she arrived. There were raised voices coming from inside the common room. She nervously peeked inside and quickly ducked back out of sight as a jet of purple sparks went flying past her face.

“Watch it!” she heard a voice shout.

Harriet blinked, quite taken aback. She moved more slowly when she entered the room and took in the scene. The first thing she saw was Rachel, standing in the middle of the room. She wore her night-gown and was spinning in circles, her wand pointed in seemingly random directions.

Harriet gave her head a shake. She came back to her senses slowly edging her way toward the girl’s staircase. Once she was closer to Rachel, Harriet was able to fully assess the situation. Rachel wasn’t pointing her wand in random directions. She was pointing it at the small crowds gathered at the foot of the staircases to the boy and girl dorms. Ben Jackson, Professor McGonagall, Erica, and Jackson Lee circled around her speaking in calming voices and holding up their hands.

Harriet looked at Rachel properly. Rachel’s eyes were as wide as they could go, and her skin looked almost paper-white. Her wand arm shook and her breaths came in quick staccato.  She was in a panic.

“STAY BACK!” Rachel shrieked at Professor McGonagall when she tried to take a step closer.

“It’s alright, Miss Kane,” Professor McGonagall said, in a calm, soothing voice.

In spite of the seriousness of the scene, Harriet couldn’t help but note how odd it was to hear Professor McGonagall speak like that.

“Rachel…” Erica said in a pleading voice. “Please…”

“HE’S COMING!” Rachel cried louder. “HE’S GOING TO KILL US ALL! WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE SENT AWAY AND HE’LL KILL US!”

Harriet furrowed her brow. What was Rachel talking about? Why would they be sent away?

“Miss Kane—Rachel,” Professor McGonagall corrected. “No one is going to send you away. Certainly not anyone at this school.”

“Rachel…” Erica pleaded. “You’re safe… please, just listen… we’re trying to help.”

“NO ONE CAN HELP!” Rachel shouted louder. Her voice was starting to crack under the strain of her shouts. “HE BURNED DOWN HOGSMEADE! HE’S COMING FOR US! THE FIRE IS COMING!”

Just then, Rachel caught sight of the flames still burning in the fireplace. She screamed and shot a jet of sparks into them which caused ash and coals to fly about the room. Students ducked flying cinders and started coughing as smoke filled the air.

Harriet was completely frozen. Her mind was blank as to what to do. She kept looking from Professor McGonagall, to Ben, to Jackson, to Erica, wondering what on earth was going to happen. Rachel had been uncharacteristically quiet over the past week, but Harriet had no idea she’d been harbouring this inside her. It was as if an entirely different person was standing in the middle of the common room.

“Rachel,” Jackson said, coughing and clearing his throat. “Rachel please listen, it’s me… it’s Jackson.”

“Jackson?” Rachel said, spinning around and pointing her wand at him.

For a moment, Rachel’s expression softened, then her rage returned. “You! You were in that village! You were shielding those people! They killed Mom and Dad!”

Jackson ducked as Rachel fired a volley of turquoise sparks at him. It just barely grazed his hair, causing it to stand on end for a moment as the hex smashed into the wall, leaving a scorch mark.

“We weren’t!” Jackson declared, his face going red. He lost all the kindness from his voice, replaced now with a grim determination as his hands clenched into fists. “They took over our town. Your soldiers killed my parents, too!”

“LIES!” Rachel shrieked before spinning to point her wand at Ben, who had tried moving up behind her.

“It’s not!” Jackson said. “Your brother told me everything! He and Maranesa took off the memory charm! I remember everything!”

The muttering students fell silent. Harriet supposed that everyone was shocked to learn Jackson had been under such a powerful spell. Rachel slowly turned to look at Jackson again. Her face was still manic and stricken, but she was clearly listening.

Jackson was taking deep breaths. His hands slowly unclenched and the redness waned from his face. “Your brother’s commander ordered the attack on the town,” Jackson said. “Your parents died in the attack on your town, my parents died in the attack on my town. Your brother found me, I was… I was hiding… in the room where my parents were killed…”

Jackson took a few more breaths. “Please Rachel, listen… I… I was scared. I was so scared… when your brother came in, I… with my dad’s revolv—”

Jackson had to duck again as Rachel shot another curse. Professor McGonagall tried to reach for her own wand but with amazing speed, Rachel spun and trained her wand on Professor McGonagall instead.

“Dammit! I said listen!” Jackson exclaimed. “Your brother thought I killed the commander! But he realized that we weren’t hiding anyone. Not by choice. He took pity on me, and was afraid that I’d tell people I killed their commander and I’d be executed for it, so he put a memory charm on me and snuck me out of the city.”

Rachel wouldn’t look at Jackson anymore, but she wasn’t breathing as rapidly and she didn’t seem to be paying as much attention to Professor McGonagall or Ben, so Harriet figured she was listening.

Jackson continued to explain. “He told me to run, and so I ran. Epeius found me and took me to Canada… and I was brought here. And I met you, his little sister…”

Slowly, Rachel returned her attention fully to Jackson. This time, however, when Ben tried to move up behind Rachel, it was Jackson who shook his head, stopping him.

“Rachel… we’re connected. Maranesa explained it to me… like I said… we both lost our parents to this… your brother saved me… Maranesa told me to look after you, to always be there for you… and at first I thought it was just because we were connected… but now I don’t think it is. You mean everything to me Rachel… please, put down the wand… you’re safe here. We’re all safe here.”

Harriet bit her lip. Rachel’s back was to her, so she couldn’t see if her expression had changed at all.

“Yeah… our parents are gone… and I miss them, I want them back so bad, but… yet I don’t care. You’re a wonderful person and I just want you to be happy… please, come here…”

Jackson slowly spread his arms. Rachel didn’t move at first. Then, with slight trepidation, she took a step towards Jackson. He stood his ground, standing and holding his arms wide, inviting her into an embrace.

“Tell you what,” Jackson said. “I’ll come half way, you come the other half. Meet in the middle, okay?”

Rachel slowly nodded. She didn’t quite lower her wand, but they did start taking steps toward each other. Neither Professor McGonagall nor Ben tried to interfere as the two moved closer and closer. Finally, they reached each other. Rachel was trembling a little. Jackson just kept looking down at Rachel, and Rachel tipped her head back to look up at the much taller boy.

Then, it happened. Rachel let out a sob, then a wail as she dropped the wand and flung herself into Jackson’s arms. He grunted as he caught her and fell back on the floor, Rachel on top of him. Rachel continued to sob, but despite the obvious pain he was in from his hard landing, Jackson kept hugging Rachel as tight as he could.

Professor McGonagall let out a sigh of relief while Ben quickly moved in, plucking up Rachel’s wand and pocketing it as Erica knelt beside the two, softly stroking Rachel’s hair as the smaller girl sobbed harder.

“Well done,” Ben said softly to Jackson.

Jackson just shrugged in reply, continuing to hold Rachel tight. Professor McGonagall turned her attention to the students gathered at the stairs. Harriet once more had to remind herself that she was invisible, and so no one knew she was there.

“Right, everyone back upstairs,” Professor McGonagall said. “We’ll handle this from here.”

“She’s barking,” said a first year boy whose name Harriet couldn’t remember.

“Shut up!” snapped little Mabel Jackson, AJ’s younger sister, stepping out of the crowd and putting her hands on her little hips. “You don’t even know!”

“I said back to bed!” Professor McGonagall declared, raising her voice.

The gathered students all fell silent as they slowly started moving back up the stairs. Harriet snuck over as quietly as she could, following the girls up the stairs to their room. She managed to squeeze in just behind Basheera, making her way over to her bed.

“And where exactly were you, Harriet Potter?” Hermione said in her sternest voice.

Harriet sighed, sliding off her invisibility cloak.

“Whoa,” AJ said. “That’s awesome!”

“I was just… out,” Harriet said evasively, ignoring AJ. “What happened?”

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.

“Rachel just… snapped,” Parvati said.

“She had another night terror,” Tori said. “She started screaming and when I went over to comfort her, she drew her wand on me. I’ve never seen her like that before.”

“It was so scary,” Lavender added.

“Rachel was terrified,” Basheera said. “She kept talking about how she and the other Americans were going to be sent away…”

“Yeah, and how the attack on the town was their fault because Kinney was still after them,” Ronnie added.

Harriet sighed, sitting on her bed. She should have been here. Perhaps she could have helped calm Rachel before she wound up in the common room. What was going to happen to Rachel?

Harriet looked over at Rachel’s empty bed. Half of the curtains had been pulled down, and the sheets ripped aside. On the floor beside her bed was a crumpled up page of newsprint.

Harriet walked over and knelt beside the bed, picking it up. At once, she saw what had set Rachel off. She read aloud.

 

_TERROR IN THE NORTH_

_SOLOMON KINNEY DESTROYS HISTORIC HOGSMEADE_

_It has happened once again, dear readers. The scourge of Solomon Kinney has struck again, this time destroying one of the most beloved historical landmarks in the entirety of the wizarding world: the town of Hogsmeade, the last all wizarding settlement in Britain._

_Through sheer luck, none of our beloved students were harmed, but this should be our final straw. As we all know well, the summer of 1992, the Americans went to war with one another. There was no reason whatsoever for our country to become involved in this silly squabble, and yet that did not stop our Minister of Magic from bringing terror to our shores._

_Rather than finding proper places for them to stay in their own country, leaving their problems at home, Minister Cornelius Fudge decided unilaterally to bring some children here. And what has been the result? The secessionists sent Solomon Kinney to wreak havoc upon us._

_Since the summer of 1993, Solomon Kinney has destroyed the central office of_ The Daily Prophet _, killing thirty people in the process. Last summer, Kinney assassinated one Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang Institute, nearly causing the school to withdraw from the historic Tri-Wizard Tournament._

_Now, the possible worst has happened. Kinney set loose a fiendfyre storm upon Hogsmeade, levelling every building, nearly killing the entire populace and every student over the age of twelve at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Solomon Kinney was sent here to Britain to attack these children. And while that is not the children’s fault, are the lives of our children worth theirs? Must we continue to give our own citizens’ lives in exchange for theirs? Let us send these children back home where they came from and let the Americans deal with their own problems. Let us tell our Minister that it’s high time he got his priorities straight and started putting Britain first!_

 

The girls all sat in silence after that.

“She’s a monster,” Parvati said, her hands over her mouth.

“She has no idea… no idea…” Lavender said.

Hermione crossed over to Tori’s bed, hugging her around the shoulders. “Don’t worry,” Hermione said. “None of us feel that way about any of you. You and AJ and Rachel are all so important to us.”

“Thanks,” AJ said her voice breaking.

“Yeah, it’s not you all that we’re worried about…” Tori grumbled.

One by one, the girls all climbed back into their beds. Harriet put away her cloak and slid under her covers. The one thing she was sure of, as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling again, no one in Gryffindor Tower was going to get any more sleep that night.

## * * * *

Harriet never told her friends about what transpired during her night-time stroll. Rachel’s meltdown had driven the strangeness of Mr Crouch’s behaviour clear out of her mind. This was not helped by a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake that morning.

“Muh?” Harriet muttered. She was surprised to find she had fallen asleep after all that had happened.

“Good morning, Harriet dear,” Aurora said.

Harriet looked up quickly. Aurora was smiling down at her kindly, dressed in her running gear. 

“Mornin’” Harriet slurred, still half asleep.

“Wanna go for a run?” Aurora asked kindly. “I thought you might like one.”

In spite of how tired she was, Harriet felt she certainly could use a run. She quickly dressed in her running clothes and the pair headed down to the front doors. The school was quiet and peaceful.

“I could get used to this,” Harriet said as the pair stretched in the silent entrance hall.

“Nothing like some peace and quiet and a healthy burst of endorphins to keep you going, yes?”

Harriet smiled. The pair headed out into the grounds, jogging down the slippery grass towards the lake. The lake was still and mirror smooth, reflecting the mountains in the distance in the early morning light. Out here, away from the castle and the sickening sight of Hogsmeade’s ruin, Harriet finally felt a sense of relief and escape.

They began their jog, moving along at a steady pace. As usual, half-way into the run, Harriet was having a difficult time keeping up with Professor Sinistra’s much longer strides, and fell back a few paces. She didn’t mind, however, she was just happy to be out and working her body.

That’s when Harriet heard it. A quiet, high-pitched sound off to her left. She slowed down, listening. Then she heard it again.

Harriet stopped running completely. She noticed a bush rustling nearby, before she heard yet another squeaking noise. She furrowed her brow. It sounded like a bleating sound, like a lamb. Harriet looked around at the trees. They were right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harriet knew all too well how dangerous the creatures in the forest could be.

Harriet took a breath. The bleats were getting more frantic. She looked down the shore. Aurora had moved out of sight.

_Maa-aa-aa!_

Harriet set her jaw and slowly drew her wand from her belt. She moved slowly towards the shaking bush and pulled back a branch.

Harriet’s jaw went slack at once. It was the oddest creature she had ever seen. The creature had the long, slender tail of a fish, but the front half, head, and front legs of a tiny baby goat. It was bleating frantically, its tail caught in the crook of a narrow fork in one of the branches.

“How on earth did you get yourself stuck in there?” Harriet asked, shaking her head in bemusement.

Despite the dangers of the forest, Harriet felt herself completely disarmed at the sight of the little creature. It looked so helpless, and despite its odd appearance, it was rather adorable.

Harriet knelt down, reaching for the branch. The little goat-fish began bleating even more frantically, and struggling harder, making it difficult to hold onto its tail.

“Hold on, hold on,” Harriet said. “I’m just trying to get your tail out.”

At once, the little creature stopped struggling. Harriet blinked. Could the little creature understand her? It was staying perfectly still now, looking back at her over its shoulder, its overlong ears flopping a little.

Harriet finally pulled up on the tail as gently as she could, dislodging it from the forked braches. The tiny goat-fish didn’t run away. Instead, it just kept staring at her. Then with remarkable speed for such an ungainly body, the little creature vanished into the underbrush, thrashing a little before there was a loud splash as it dove into the lake. Harriet hurried to the shore after it. There were ripples where the creature had dived in, but she couldn’t see any further sign of it. There weren’t even any tracks in the mud that she could see.

“How on earth…?”

“Harriet?” Aurora had come back for her.

She was looking worried but relief filled her face as she caught sight of her. “What happened?” Aurora asked. “Did you need a break?”

“I-uh…” Harriet muttered looking back at the bush then at the lake. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing her head a little bewildered. “I guess I did…”

“Well, we can head back now if you want?”

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. “That might be good…”

The pair began jogging back towards the school. As they went, Harriet kept stealing glances out at the lake. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t help but feel that every time she looked, just out of the corner of her eye she could see something ducking beneath the surface, vanishing by the time she got a proper look.

## * * * *

Later that morning at breakfast, Harriet learned that Rachel had been taken to St Mungo’s for ‘proper treatment.’ Jackson was looking glum over this news, but Tori seemed cheered.

“They’re really great there, I hear,” Tori explained at breakfast. “My mom and dad know a guy who used to work in that department: Doctor Bishop.”

“Ain’t he the cat-dude?” AJ asked.

“Yes…” Tori replied, giving AJ a cold, offended look.

“Hagrid!” Marcus said, his face breaking out into a wide grin.

Harriet spun her head around so fast her neck cracked. Sure enough, shuffling in through the door to the staff room, which was much too small for him, was Hagrid. Harriet sprang to her feet. She started towards Hagrid when she noticed that it was not just her friends who were getting to their feet. All around the Great Hall, students were rising and began applauding and cheering Hagrid.

By the time Harriet reached Hagrid, the bits of his face visible behind his tangled beard was a bright red. Professor Sutler was grinning as well, patting Hagrid’s arm just above the elbow (the highest point he could reach).

“Welcome back, Hagrid!” Hermione said, beaming up at Hagrid as he took his seat at the staff table.

“Thanks,” Hagrid said, his voice choked with emotion. “Can you believe it? Me? Getting’ the Order of Merlin? First Class no less?”

“That’s fantastic!” Dora declared. “You earned it, you were amazing!”

Hagrid’s face blushed an even deeper red. “Just did what anyone else would’r done…”

“Oh Hagrid,” Scott said shaking his head. “That was more than anyone would have or could have done.”

Hagrid was fidgeting with the hem of his coat, smiling bashfully.

“Are you back teaching lessons?” Ronnie asked.

“Yeah,” Hagrid replied. “Gonner be splittin’ the lessons with Professor Sutler here, till the end’r the year. I’ll be takin’ Gryffindor and Slytherin classes, and Nick here’ll handle Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.”

“Gladly,” Professor Sutler said, raising a glass to Hagrid.

Hagrid chuckled and did his best to touch his giant tankard as lightly against Professor Sutler’s glass as he could. Professor Sutler gave a resigned sigh as the force was still too much and caused half of the contents of his glass to splash out onto his robes.

The students sat again but Harriet and her friends didn’t move from the table.

“So what’s your first lesson back going to be?” Kieran asked with interest.

“It’s not more Skrewts, is it?” Dora asked, nervously.

Even Hagrid laughed loudly.

## * * * *

Harriet had an incredibly difficult time focusing in classes over the following weeks. The Second Task kept looming closer and closer, and her lessons with Professor Moody were getting no easier. He was now teaching her the Stunning Spell, _Stupefy_.

Harriet was getting decent at casting and hitting with the spell. She didn’t like that Professor Moody had summoned one of the house-elves to act as the guinea pig for Harriet’s attempts.

“Isn’t there like… a dummy or something we can use?” Harriet asked apprehensively.

“What good’s a dummy going to be?” Professor Moody asked. “Need to see for yourself its effect. The Stunning Spell doesn’t harm its target, unless they land on something hard. Luckily for house-elves, they’re little which makes them a more difficult target, and it means when they fall they don’t hit very hard.”

“Bunko is happy to help, young Miss,” the elf said in a squeaky voice, looking positively overjoyed at the prospect of being stunned over and over again.

An hour later, Harriet sat as the dazed Bunko teetered his way out of the room.

“Now, the Stunning Spell, probably an Auror’s most important spell,” Professor Moody said as he lowered himself into his chair behind his desk.

“Wouldn’t that be _Expelliarmus_?” Harriet asked.

Professor Moody laughed. “Hah! Cheeky devil are you, Potter? Yes, _Expelliarmus_ is our second most important, but it’s much easier to bring in a suspect who can’t fight back at all, isn’t it?”

“I… I guess so, sir…” Harriet admitted, reluctantly.

“ _Expelliarmus_ is good enough for the normal, low-life scum on the streets,” Professor Moody explained. “Normal magical law-enforcement, petty crooks and the like. But for an Auror, when you’re dealing with proper dark wizards you can’t be so touchy-feely. Aurors deal with those who want to kill us rather than just escape. Worse than that, many of them are prepared to fight to the death, and a dead man tells no tales, Potter.”

Harriet tightened her lips.

“Now then,” Professor Moody said, leaning closer to her over his desk. “How are you getting on with your gillyweed?”

“Oh, uh… I uh haven’t managed to get any yet, sir,” Harriet admitted.

Frankly, she still had no idea what gillyweed even was, let alone why she needed it for the task.

“Ah, well, useful thing, gillyweed. Impressed you thought of it.”

Harriet shifted one of her feet awkwardly.

“Well, Potter, all I’ll say is this… you’ll do well. You’ve learned most every spell you’ll need to get past anything you find in the lake.”

“Spells will work underwater, sir?”

“Of course,” Professor Moody said. “Damned useful.”

Harriet looked away, distracted.

“Something on your mind, Potter?” Professor Moody asked.

“It’s just… you said one time that dark magic isn’t really, like… what was it?”

Professor Moody smiled. “I said that dark magic isn’t black and white. It’s just fairy stories, my girl.”

“Yeah, but… how? I mean… _Avada Kedavra_ kills instantly and can’t be blocked. How isn’t that evil?”

“Do you know how that curse was created, Potter?” Professor Moody asked.

Harriet shook her head.

“ _Avada Kedavra_ , the Killing Curse… its origin is not exactly known. However, it dates back to a time when duels between wizards had three things in common: nobility, regularity, and mortality.”

“Mortality?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Professor Moody growled seriously. “Duels in the old days were to the death. They were matters of honour between the noble, pure-blood houses.”

“That’s awful,” Harriet said.

“So they say today,” Professor Moody said. “But the Killing Curse is thought to have been created as a tool for duels. It was considered an art form.”

“An art form?!”

Professor Moody laughed. “Times change, Potter. Once upon a time life wasn’t so happy and cozy as it is for you now. No, the Killing Curse was meant to leave a pretty corpse.”

Harriet stared.

“Think, Potter,” Professor Moody growled. “A noble wizard, if killed in a duel, didn’t want to be buried having been turned into a puddle of goo. It was considered bad form. Good form was ending your opponent’s life as painlessly and quickly as possible. Life was cheap, and honour was expensive.”

“But… but it’s still death, sir,” Harriet said. “It’s still killing…”

“Yes it is,” Professor Moody said. “I’m not saying it’s good, but I’m also saying it’s not expressly evil. Shades of grey, Potter. Shades of grey… that’s all life is. Curses are tools, nothing more. It’s the intent… it’s the mind behind that magic, that makes it good or evil.”

Harriet nodded slowly. There was a certain logic to what Professor Moody said. At least, it seemed as though there was. And yet, as Harriet returned to Gryffindor Tower, something deep inside her felt unsettled, and apprehensive. Whatever Professor Moody said, the Killing Curse had only been created to do one thing: kill. It was the curse that took her parents’ lives.

_Well,_ Harriet thought, _if Moody thinks it’s just the mind behind the magic that makes it good or bad, he can be sure my mind’s the kind that will never sink to that…_

She arrived in Gryffindor tower. Her friends were waiting for her in front of the common room fire.

“How’d it go?” Kieran asked as Harriet joined them.

“Guys, does anyone know what the hell Gillyweed is?” Harriet asked, feeling frustrated and tired.

“Gillyweed? Oh yeah, I know all about Gillyweed!”

Harriet turned to look over towards one of the nearby homework tables. Neville was grinning broadly at Harriet from where he was working on homework with Basheera, Tori, and Jackson.

“Really?” Harriet asked excitedly. “What is it? How does it work?”

Harriet turned and hurried over to the table instead.

“It’s an amazing plant, really,” Neville said, leaning down and rummaging in his bag. “Read about them in the book Professor Moody gave me. It’s from the Mediterranean, off the coast of Tuscany. You chew it and it gives you gills so you can breathe underwater, and it turns your feet into flippers.”

“That’s crazy,” Marcus said as he and the rest joined them.

“But useful,” Hermione observed.

“Wonder how you’d get some…” Harriet thought, before snapping her fingers. “Professor Snape’s office!”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked.

Harriet felt an awkward knot in her stomach now.

“I uh… well you know that night… the night Rachel had her breakdown?”

No one had to say anything.

“Well,” Harriet continued. “I was out uh… because, um… well anyway it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I ran into Moody, and when he asked what I was doing out, I lied about why I was out and said I was looking for something to help with the task, and that’s when he first told me about Gillyweed. He thought I was trying to steal it from Professor Snape.”

Harriet’s friends were all giving her odd looks. Hermione and Kieran both looked stern, while Marcus and Ronnie looked rather impressed.

“Wow, quick thinking,” Ronnie said.

“Yes, very quick thinking,” Kieran said. Unlike Ronnie, his voice had a distinct tone of irony.

Harriet looked at him, taken aback. She didn’t remember Kieran ever talking to her like that before. Hermione was giving Harriet the same look.

“Uh… do you all need some privacy?” Jackson asked.

Everyone looked a little abashed at this, though clearly Kieran and Hermione still had something to say on the matter.

Harriet thanked Neville again before she and the others returned to the fireplace.

“Okay, are you ready to tell us what happened that night?” Hermione asked.

“I… I saw something weird on the map,” Harriet explained. “I saw Mr Crouch rummaging around Professor Snape’s office.

“What?” Kieran asked, losing his cool demeanour at once as shock washed over his face.

“Yeah,” Harriet continued. “So… I went to see if I could find him and see what he was up to.”

“Harriet, you have to stop doing that!” Hermione said, loudly enough it made Fred and George look up from where they sat in the corner, writing another letter.

“You should have at least brought someone else with you,” Marcus said.

“Or told a professor!” Hermione added.

“Well I couldn’t have done that, could I?” Harriet retorted. “I would have been forced to tell them about the map, and the map does so much better with me than it has when I haven’t had it.”

“That’s… okay… kind of a fair point,” Kieran conceded.

“Right, so okay… but what was Crouch up to?” Harriet went on. “Breaking into Professor Snape’s office like that? Professor Snape didn’t know, I overheard him talking to Filch about finding his office ransacked.”

“Percy did say he was ill when I talked to him at the Ball,” Ronnie said scratching her cheek.

“Yeah, he told me that too,” Harriet said.

“But what if that’s it?” Hermione thought. “Maybe it isn’t Professor Moody?”

“How do you mean?” Kieran asked.

“Well, maybe it’s Mr Crouch who’s sneaking around the school, invisible? Spying on people?”

“But Professor Moody could still see him under and invisibility cloak,” Marcus said.

“He doesn’t necessarily need an invisibility cloak,” Hermione replied. “He could be using a disillusionment charm. Professor Moody’s eye can see through physical things, but I doubt it’s powerful enough to see through one of those.”

“Good thinking,” Harriet said. “Maybe that’s why my bracelet burned… maybe it’s the combination of Professor Moody teaching me—well—spells he shouldn’t be... and Crouch was listening outside the door?”

“I don’t know…” Ronnie said. “Crouch is… that just doesn’t sound like him. Not from everything Percy’s said. Sneaking around and stuff… what if he got caught? That’d be a huge scandal.”

“That’s a fair point too…” Harriet admitted.

“Well… we can’t worry about that for now,” Kieran said, reasonably. “There’s still something even more important.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s now only a week until the second task, and you need Gillyweed to help you get down to where the merpeople live to get back whatever it is they’re going to take.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harriet said, sighing.

In the corner, Fred and George went back to their writing.

## * * * *

Harriet sat bolt upright in bed. It was the night before the second task, and Harriet had just woken from the strangest dream she’d ever had. First, she was struggling to stay afloat in the water of the lake. A mermaid was sitting on a rock, holding Harriet’s _Firebolt_ above her head, just out of Harriet’s reach, taunting her with it. Then, the mermaid began poking Harriet with it, taunting louder.

Then, the poking became Dobby, telling her she had only ten minutes until the second task started before giving her gillyweed. He told her she had to go save Ron, and at first Harriet was confused about who Ron was, before realizing Dobby meant Ronnie. Then, she received an even bigger shock when she caught her reflection in a pane of glass as she left the library and saw a scruffy-haired, glasses wearing boy with a lightning scar on his forehead looking back at her.

That was the point Harriet had woken up. She looked around the dormitory. Everyone was still asleep. Harriet slid out of bed, being careful not to disrupt the sleeping DIDS (she almost put her hand on him the previous night and he bit her), and made her way to the stand of chilled water. She groaned as the ice cold water filled her stomach. It gave her a jolt to full consciousness, and she took in her surroundings fully.

Rachel’s bed was still empty. It had been weeks now, and Rachel had not returned from St Mungo’s. She wrote them letters regularly, which Tori and Jackson always read eagerly at the Gryffindor table for them. Rachel’s absence was clearly affecting Jackson the worst of all. He barely spoke to anyone. The only time he seemed happy was whenever the letters from Rachel arrived.

Harriet looked out the window again. She grimaced as she took in the sight of the vast lake. What were the merpeople going to take that she’d sorely miss? In the dream, the mermaid had taken her _Firebolt_. Harriet hurried over to her trunk, opening the lid as quickly yet quietly as she could.

No, her _Firebolt_ was still there.

Harriet sighed. As she did, some tears came to her eyes. _What does it matter, I’m going to lose anyway? I don’t have any gillyweed, I can’t find any other way of staying underwater long enough…_

They had tried several times to find ways into Professor Snape’s office, where Professor Moody had said there was gillyweed. However, Professor Snape kept his room sealed under several complicated charms.

They had tried going through all the books in the library that they could to find alternative ways, but with only a week left, they had come up with nothing. Harriet hugged her arms and sniffed heavily. Tori stirred in her bed and Harriet did her best to stifle a sob so she wouldn’t wake the rest. She couldn’t be around people at the moment.

She tiptoed across the room, opened and closed the door as quietly as she could, and crept down the stairs to the common room. The common room was mercifully empty. She made her way over to the fireplace and sat on one of the couches. She stared into the crackling, freshly made fire. Slowly, she lowered herself onto her side and curled up.

_Failure_ , the voice in her head told her. _Failure and a freak. You’re nothing. Everyone who’s doubted you was right. The Dursleys are right._

“Harriet?”

Harriet snorted as she woke. She looked around, finding the world out of focus. She had fallen asleep again.

“Here,” another voice said.

Harriet felt someone stuff her glasses into her hand. She quickly put them on and looked up. Hermione, Kieran, Scott, Marcus, Dora, and Ronnie were all standing over her.

“You weren’t in bed, so I summoned everyone to come looking for you,” Hermione said. “I… it didn’t occur to me to look on the couch…”

Harriet sat up, groaning.

“What time is it?”

“You have an hour,” Dora said, guessing why Harriet actually wanted to know the time.

Harriet felt her emotions returning. Only an hour left until her utter failure. There was no hope of getting Gillyweed now.

“It… it’s not your fault,” Ronnie said. “You tried your hardest…”

“But it wasn’t enough,” Harriet moaned.

Her friends all gave each other despairing looks. She could tell they were all thinking how they could possibly help.

Just then, the portrait opened, and the common room was filled with the sound of someone joyfully whistling. The group looked and saw Fred Weasley climbing through the portrait hole, and looking incomprehensibly pleased with himself. Which, for Fred, was saying something.

Harriet couldn’t help but glower at him. What on earth had Fred so happy, when there was so much about which to be miserable. Fred got about half-way across the common room when he paused, and slowly turned to look at the group.

“Wow,” Fred said raising his eyebrows. “Who died?”’

“My chances at finishing this task,” Harriet said dejectedly.

“Ouch, that is a bother,” Fred said.

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Fred, this really is not the moment,” Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips.

“No?” Fred replied, rubbing his chin. “In that case… Harriet, might I—well, after you get dressed—might I take you out for a walk? Clear your head, maybe?”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Why…?” She asked. The last time Fred had asked her to go somewhere alone with her, he’d asked her to the Yule Ball.

“Just think you need a moment to get your head on straight,” Fred said.

Harriet sighed. She agreed, then quickly headed upstairs, changing into her Tournament jump-suit and heading back down.

“Okay, how do you think you’re going to clear my head?” Harriet asked.

Fred didn’t say anything, still wearing his exceptionally smug grin.

“What are you up to…?” Harriet asked, suspiciously as they climbed out the portrait hole.

“Teaching you a very important lesson,” Fred said, evasively.

Harriet felt her frustration growing higher. They headed down the stairs, deeper and deeper into the castle. That’s when it struck Harriet. They were heading towards Professor Snape’s office.

“Fred?” Harriet asked.

“Yes?”

“You can’t get into Professor Snape’s office, it’s too well sealed.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Fred said, giving Harriet his most roguish smile yet.

The smile made Harriet pause. It was so confident and yet so happy that it gave Harriet a sensation she’d never felt around Fred before. It was the kind of feeling she only ever got around boys like Cedric or Charlie. Her whole tummy was instantly full of butterflies.

Fred paused at the end of the corridor, peeking around the corner towards Professor Snape’s office. He raised his wrist, checking his watch.

“Okay, perfect timing… now… let’s wait…”

They stood in silence for a full minute. Then, Fred began counting down.

“Three… two… one…”

There was a creaking as the door to Professor Snape’s office opened. At that same moment, there was an explosion of noise.

“CHARGE!!” cried the cackling, mad voice of Peeves the Poltergeist.

Professor Snape gave a cry of surprise and there was the smashing of several potion vials on the floor.

“PEEVES!” Professor Snape roared and there were the flashes and bangs of spells Professor Snape was firing after the poltergeist.

“Missed!” Peeves cackled. “Whoops, almost that time!”

“Get back here, you infernal creature!” Professor Snape cried. The bangs and flashes and cackling laughter started moving away.

Fred peeked out around the corner again and grabbed Harriet’s arm.

“Coast is clear! Let’s go!”

The pair hurried down the corridor. Professor Snape’s door was still wide open. They hopped over the bubbling mess of potions that were slowly eating a hole in the floor and into the office. It was exceptionally grim. It was lit with the same pale green candles that lit the Slytherin common room. The walls were lined with numerous horrible looking potions as well as jars of ingredients.

“Quick,” Fred said looking around. “Gotta find—”

“ _Accio_ Gillyweed,” Harriet called, pointing her wand.

At once, one of the jars flung itself off the wall and towards her. Harriet caught the jar easily and grinned up at Fred.

“Huh,” Fred said rubbing his head. “Should have thought of that…”

“Let’s go!” Harriet said. She grabbed Fred’s arm now and she pulled him from the room.

They ran back down the corridor, not stopping until they were two floors above Professor Snape’s office. Harriet would have kept going, but Fred was doubled over on his knees, panting.

“How can you run like that?” Fred asked, gasping.

“I run with Professor Sinistra every other morning,” Harriet said, studying the jar of Gillyweed.

“Show off,” Fred muttered, though he was grinning still.

Harriet shook her head, looking down at him. “How did you know?”

Fred shrugged, finally standing upright again. “Overheard you and your friends say you needed Gillyweed, and Snape’s office was the only place to get it. So I spent all week watching Snape’s office, timing him. Luckily, he’s a creature of habit.”

“Fred,” Harriet said, amazed. “That was incredible.

“Well, naturally,” Fred said, still grinning.

Harriet rolled her eyes. Fred laughed harder. “So,” he said finally catching his breath. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Harriet said, reading the label.

_Gillyweed – Chew and swallow. Gives those who consume it gills and webbed feet. Effects last approximately one hour, varies depending on the metabolism of the consumer._

“Awesome,” Fred grinned. “You’re going to be a shoe-in, now. I don’t think anyone else has thought of gillyweed.”

Harriet checked her own watch. They only had a half an hour now.

“I… I should probably get down there,” Harriet said, before looking up at Fred again, trying to give him the sincerest, most thankful look she could muster.

It must have worked, because Fred went quite red.

“Don’t mention it,” he said suddenly surprisingly modest. “You’re worth it.”

Harriet felt her cheeks get quite warm as well.

## * * * *

In what felt like no time at all, Harriet was standing down by the lake. Her knees were trembling slightly with nerves and the chill wind. All around them, stands had been set up overnight and the school was filling them. Nearby was the judges table. They had all taken their seats and were waiting patiently for the proceedings to begin.

Harriet looked at the other champions. She, Fleur, and Aello were all wearing simple, one-piece bathing suits, while Cedric and Krum were wearing swim-trunks.

To Harriet’s surprise, it was Kazunari who was drawing the most attention. Harriet was certainly having a difficult time keeping her eyes off of him as he stretched, limbering up his body. Harriet supposed the fact he was wearing a speedo helped as well.

Kazunari’s awkward demeanour and frumpy, old clothes had indeed been hiding something. Underneath all the drab clothing, Kazunari’s body didn’t seem to have a scrap of fat on it. His arms, abs, and legs were perfectly formed and sculpted. His calves looked as though they had been chiselled out of stone.

Now Harriet thought on it, this was perhaps the least clothed she’d ever seen a boy. Not much was left to the imagination by Kazunari’s tiny speedo. She did her best to force herself to look away, however, the speedo area in particular did seem impossible for her eyes to avoid, and it was starting to give her a tingling sensation similar to the dream she’d had the night after the attack on Hogsmeade.

Both Cedric and Krum were giving Kazunari very awkward, self-conscious glances. Cedric looked almost flabby by comparison, and Krum looked like a twig. Aello was paying him no mind, yet Harriet noted that even Fleur was having a difficult time keeping her eyes to herself.

To distract herself, Fleur looked Aello over with her usual air of distaste.

“Surprised you would wear such womanly things,” Fleur whispered waspishly to Aello. “Per’aps you would prefer just ze trunks?”

Aello stretched. Whereas Kazunari was toned and slender, Aello was built and bulked more like a weight-lifter.

“It is more streamlined,” Aello replied without skipping a beat. “It will make swimming much easier than trunks.”

Fleur rolled her eyes. Aello however gave Fleur a sideways glance.

“Besides, back home we train in the nude.”

Fleur went scarlet as she looked back at Aello, aghast. Meanwhile, there was more than a few catcalls coming from the crowd, mostly directed at Fleur. However, there were one or two that came Harriet’s way.

“So that’s what Potter’s been hiding all this time,” she heard one voice call.

“That arse,” a boy whistled.

“Perfect little upside down heart it is!”

Harriet felt her stomach clench as a boy whistled. She suddenly really wished she was still wearing the full jumpsuit from the first task.

“Sure Potter’s not a boy?” Jeered Pansy Parkinson. “Must have big bed-bugs in Gryffindor tower to give those bites.”

“Who said that,” Aello said spinning on the spot and glaring at the crowd.

Harriet looked up at her, as taken aback by Aello’s reaction as she was by the comments. Aello did not need to take any action, however. Professor McGonagall had already swooped down upon the offenders. She whipped out her wand at once all the offending students leapt to their feet, wincing as if someone was tugging on their ears. Professor McGonagall held her wand aloft, ferrying away the students, giving them all inaudible diatribes.

“I like that one,” Aello said, meaning Professor McGonagall. “She has proper pride.”

“ _Sonorus,_ ” Bagman said, distracting Harriet.                                        

The crowd’s sound was overpowered by the new volume of Bagman’s voice.

“Ladies, and gentlemen!” Bagman called to the crowd. “Our champions are all ready and so we can begin the second task!”

The crowd roared with excitement.

“Points for this task will be awarded out of fifty,” Bagman explained. “The champions have one hour to reach the bottom of the lake and recover what has been taken.”

Harriet grimaced. She looked around at the crowd. She spotted her usual group of cheerleaders. She was surprised to see that Alee Jameson was still amongst them, although she blew a little kiss at Kazunari, who grinned and stretched his arms wide.

Next to them she saw her friends, and her smile grew as she saw Rachel sitting next to Jackson, waving at her. Nearby she saw Aurora and the girls smiling and waving at her. Harriet gave them a nervous smile and wave. Then she paused and started looking around the crowd a bit more frantically. Where was Daniel? She spotted Sirius and Remus, who were also waving at her.

“We have some representatives here from _The Daily Prophet_ ,” Bagman said.

Harriet grimaced. Did that mean Rita Skeeter was here?

Fortunately, it did not seem to be the case. A wizard Harriet didn’t recognize approached her with a note-pad and a small megaphone.

“So, the second task is about to begin,” the reporter said to the gathered champions. “Would you like to tell the crowd perhaps what will be motivating you through this task. Anyone in particular you’re competing for?”

Fleur stepped forward first, taking the little megaphone.

“I am competing for ma family, especially for ma sister, Gabrielle, so she will know she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to.”

The crowd cheered.

Krum stepped forward next. “I am competing for my family back in Bulgaria, and to honour the memory of my grandfather, dead at the hand of Grindelwald’s terrors.”

The cheers for Krum weren’t quite as pronounced as Fleur’s had been.

Cedric stepped forward next. “I… well, I’m competing for my house, Hufflepuff. Lots of people look down on us, but I’m here all the same. I also want to send out my love to Cho Chang who… doesn’t seem to be here right now but…”

Cedric backed up awkwardly. Harriet furrowed her brow. Where was Cho?

She turned her attention back to Aello.

“I am competing to bring honour to my school, Mount Phoenix, to show that we have deserved to be in this competition since the beginning, as the oldest magical school in Europe.”

Aello backed away, giving a defiant look at the crowd. She received the quietest applause by far, as all the other schools clearly took offense to her words. At the judges’ table, Professor Cato was shaking his head in exasperation at Aello.

Next came Kazunari. He looked very nervous to be speaking in front of so many people.

“I—uh—sorry my English is no so good. I am competing for the money—”

Harriet crossed her arms. Apparently she was not alone in her disapproval, for several other people in the crowd booed.

Kazunari’s face hardened and he glared. “—so that I can buy my family a proper house, and we can send my sister here to Hogwarts where she has wanted to attend ever since she was little!”

The crowd went quiet at this. Even Harriet felt a little ashamed of herself. Kazunari wiped his nose with the back of his wrist in frustration and stepped away from the reporter.

Finally, the reporter turned to Harriet. Harriet felt herself frozen in place. Why was she competing? What was she getting out of it? She hadn’t entered herself in this tournament. Basically, she was just competing to survive, but she couldn’t tell the crowd that.

Then, Harriet’s eyes settled on the cheer team, mostly made up of refugees. She thought of Rachel, of Jackson, of everything all of them had gone through. Then she thought of Daniel’s shop, and all of Hogsmeade.

“I’m… I’m competing for the American students who we brought to stay here at Hogwarts because their homes were destroyed.”

A very marked silence fell over this, except for one particular area of the stands, where the Americans all leapt up and cheered her.

“And I’m also competing for the shop _Dusk til Dawn_ , which was destroyed in the attack on Hogsmeade, which my fa… my friend, Daniel Dusk has run for years.”

This brought on real cheers now from the crowd. Harriet smiled, feeling rather proud of herself for her quick thinking as she stepped back from the reporter.

“Well there we have it folks!” Boomed Bagman’s voice. “Now, with those thoughts in our champions’ heads, let’s hope it inspires them all to greatness. Now, without further ado, let’s get this task started! On the count of three! One! Two! Three!”

Bagman’s whistle screeched loudly across the grounds. Harriet immediately began running into the water, side by side with the other champions. Kazunari dived and plunged into the water so smoothly he barely left a ripple compared to the rest. Harriet meanwhile was taking out some of the gillyweed. She stuffed it into her mouth and began chewing.

The crowd was still cheering. The tendrils of Gillyweed felt how Harriet imagined uncooked octopus tentacles would feel, causing her to gag a little. She chewed harder and finally swallowed. Harriet was freezing, her skin completely broken out in goose pimples.

Then, it happened. A sharp pain hit on either side of her neck. She was suddenly out of breath, she could breathe in through her mouth and nose, but it didn’t feel as though any of the air was reaching her lungs. Harriet clamped her hands to her neck. There were two loose flaps of skin just below her jawline. Gills. Harriet had gills.

Harriet flung herself into the water. It had worked exactly as described. She gave a kick with her feet and she was propelled rapidly through the water. She spun around and looked back at her feet. They had grown and flattened, looking just like flippers.

She no longer felt the cold either. Instead, as she floated and flitted about in the water with each kick, Harriet felt an odd sense of freedom. It was as though she was flying without a broom as she swam along the bottom. She couldn’t help but smile as she swam along, alternating between kicking her feet in sync, as an otter, or alternating them as a scuba-diver would.

Finally, Harriet came back to her senses and remembered what she was doing in the first place: looking for whatever the merpeople had taken from her. How was she going to find them in this gloom, however? The water was getting darker the deeper and deeper she got. She looked at her watch, but it had stopped working in the water.

_Great_ , Harriet thought, realizing she now had no means of telling how much time had passed. She kept swimming, doing her best to scan the lake floor below. Then she remembered something Professor Moody had told her, how wands and spells worked underwater. She drew her wand out of the little pouch on her ankle and pointed it ahead of her.

“ _Lumos_ ,” she tried to say. Instead of words, a giant bubble came out of her mouth. She supposed it was the last air from her lungs.

However, her wand still sent out a ray of light, illuminating the lakebed beneath her. She swam along, keeping an eye out for anything that might give her a hint. All she could see was weeds and large rocks. And yet, as she swam on, she kept thinking she saw something just out of reach of her wand’s light, flicking in and out of sight. She would turn her wand to try and spot it, but every time she found nothing but empty water.

Just then, Harriet hit a large patch of green weeds. It was thick, and looked to be almost two feet deep. Harriet swam over it, still keeping her eye out for any sign of the merpeople or the other champions. She supposed the seaweed patch would be a good landmark for her when she was on her way back.

Harriet gasped. Something had grabbed hold of her ankle, hard. She spun around and looked. She found herself looking down into the snarling, horned face of a Grindylow. Harriet spun around, trying to aim her wand but another Grindylow grabbed onto her wrist, tugging her down.

Harriet grunted, keeping her grip on her wand as best she could, but unable to get a shot at either Grindylow. She tried to pound her free heel against the Grindylow’s fingers on her ankle. Remus had taught them that Grindylow fingers were brittle, and so that was their vulnerability. Yet, she could not move her feet fast enough in the water. Just then, another Grindylow seized her other wrist. All three were looking at her with indecent hunger on their faces.

_Wham_. With incredible force, something bashed into the Grindylow that had a hold of her wand hand. At once, Harriet’s hand was free. The Grindylows were shrieking. It was a cacophony of angry sounds that were almost disorientating her.

The other two hadn’t let go of Harriet yet, but she could see more creatures darting around her with amazing speed, twirling and diving. With another wham, the Grindylow that had her other wrist was whacked by something that shot through the water too fast for Harriet to see. Wasting no time, Harriet pointed her wand down at the Grindylow on her ankle.

“ _Relashio!_ ” Harriet cried, though as before only a large bubble came from her mouth. A jet of boiling water shot from Harriet’s wand and connected with the Grindylow. At once, a bright red patch appeared on its skin and it shrieked as it let Harriet go.

Harriet began kicking higher, putting some distance between her and the weeds of Grindylows. Satisfied she had enough distance, she turned around to look back. The Grindylow were fleeing, being chased out of the grass by long, streamlined fish it seemed. Harriet watched as the two groups moved off into the distance and out of sight once more.

Harriet puzzled, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She’d been attacked, then a school of somethings came to her rescue. She shook her head. It was a close call, but she had to find the merpeople. Harriet slowly began swimming on, when once more something caught her eye. There was something in the water moving towards her. It was misshapen, and moving very ungainly through the water.

Harriet relit the tip of her wand and pointed it. At once, she recognized what it was. It was Kazunari, his head encased in a shiny dome, which on closer inspection, Harriet recognized as a bubble. Kazunari was slowed in his swimming, and Harriet saw it was because he had another person under his arm. Harriet’s mouth fell open. It was Kazunari’s little sister, Mayu. She looked dead, her skin very pale, her eyes closed.

Harriet made for Kazunari at once. He paused, giving her a very confused look before checking his watch. Harriet noted that it was waterproof. He gave Harriet a concerned look and started waving her away and pointing off in the direction he’d come. Harriet paused. What was going on? This was odd behaviour for Kazunari to have if his little sister was in any kind of danger.

Frustrated, Kazunari swam towards her. Harriet swam up to meet him when with surprising force, a look of great urgency on his face, Kazunari grabbed hold of Harriet’s left hand. He pulled it up to her face, released Mayu just enough to point to Harriet’s watch, then her gills, then once more back in the direction he’d come.

Harriet’s eyes opened wide. Was Kazunari telling her the way to the merpeople? Why would he tell her that? Was it a trick? Professor Moody had said to be suspicious of Kazunari.

Kazunari managed to catch hold of his sister’s ankle before she floated away. Kazunari shook his head in frustration, and held his own watch up to Harriet’s face. Harriet’s stomach clenched. Almost a half hour was gone already. How had Kazunari found the merpeople so fast?

Kazunari pointed a final time in the direction he’d come, before he began swimming away with Mayu in tow. Harriet watched them for a moment, before she looked in the direction Kazunari had indicated. She supposed she didn’t have any choice. She began swimming off, hoping beyond hope that Kazunari had not been lying to her.

Now that Kazunari and Mayu were gone, Harriet couldn’t help but feel a distinct sensation of loneliness. The darkness was closing in all around her, nothing visible outside of her wand light anymore. She couldn’t even see the light of the sun above them. Even worse, she once more thought she saw shapes moving just out of her wand light.

Then, she heard it. Off in the distance, was the unmistakable sound of the song from the egg.

 

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took_ …

 

Harriet began swimming frantically in the direction of the song. She was so eager she nearly ran into a large rock that loomed out of the darkness in front of her. She shone her wand on it and at once saw what looked like cave paintings of merpeople, carrying spears and chasing something Harriet assumed to be the giant squid. It was difficult to tell in the darkness and the inexpert art.

 

_…Your time’s half gone, so tarry not_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot…_

Harriet swam around the rock. She soon came across some crude stone structures that she realized were in fact buildings, covered with weeds and algae. They were one to two stories, and instead of doors, just had windows. She seemed to be heading down a sort of thoroughfare now, and here and there in the windows Harriet could see the faces of merpeople looking out at her with interest.

They looked nothing like any picture Harriet had seen of mermaids before. Their skin was grey-green and silky-smooth. They looked rather chunky as well, compared to most depictions of merpeople, with very narrow shoulders compared to a humans’. Harriet supposed they had a layer of blubber for the cold, and the narrow shoulders would make it easier to slip through the water.

Their hair was long and green, looking rather like seaweed itself. Most had their hair tied back in intricate knots, perhaps to keep it from floating into their eyes. As for their eyes, they were bright yellow, and very large; at least twice as large as a normal human’s. Their teeth were pointed, and just as yellow as their eyes. They had long, powerful silver tails that flashed as they swam out of their homes to get a better look at Harriet.

As Harriet moved on, the buildings grew thicker and bigger. She realized that this was an entirely submerged town, perhaps even larger than Hogsmeade had been. Many of the buildings had gardens, and one even had a Grindylow tied in its yard as if it were a pet dog. Ominously, however, Harriet noted that all the merpeople, even the younger ones, were carrying spears.

Finally, Harriet rounded a corner. She stopped at once as she took in the odd sight. There was an entire crowd of merpeople gathered in what looked to be a village square. A choir of merpeople were in the middle, singing the song from the egg. Behind them was a massive, crudely sculpted merman bearing a massive trident.

It was what was tied to the tail that caught Harriet’s attention the most. There were three people, and two shiny objects tied to it. The three people were floating, tied down to the massive stone tail by their ankles. Harriet felt her heart skip as she recognized the largest one in the middle. It was Daniel.

Fear gripped Harriet at once. His face was pale and serene looking just as Mayu’s had been. Harriet swam towards him as fast as she could. He couldn’t be dead; he just couldn’t be. Harriet reached him and put her hands on his cheeks, shaking him, trying to wake him.

“Daniel!” Harriet cried. “Wake up! Please wake up!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw one of the merpeople swimming towards her. She spun and pointed her wand at the largest mermaid she’d seen so far. The mermaid was powerfully built, and clearly a female, Harriet had little trouble noting given the merpeople did not seem to wear clothing. She was carrying the largest spear, as well. The mermaid paused, eyeing the wand apprehensively but making no motion as to attack.

“They will not wake until they break the surface of the water,” the mermaid said, perfectly understandable under the water.

Harriet looked back at Daniel, and relief filled her mind. He was alive. She pulled him in tight, hugging him as tight as she could, letting out a deep sigh. Harriet finally released him, looking at the others.

She suddenly felt rather stupid. If the point was to rescue them, of course they wouldn’t be dead. Furthermore, of course Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t put anyone’s lives in danger. Harriet composed herself and took stock on the situation. Floating either side of Daniel was Cho Chang (who Harriet supposed was Cedric’s hostage), and a young girl only about eight or nine years old who was a perfectly miniature Fleur.

That wasn’t the oddest thing, however. Down lower, tied directly, and awkwardly, to the tail itself was a shiny, metal shield, and a glinting, silver necklace with a red ruby set in the middle of its pendant. She knew at once who the shield belonged to. She had seen Aello carrying it the night she had run into Harriet while they were checking out the dragons.

That meant the pendant could only belong to Krum. In spite of the seriousness of the moment, Harriet had to ponder what that meant. Why didn’t Aello and Krum have proper hostages to rescue like the rest of them?

Harriet returned her attention to Daniel. She needed a method of freeing him. She started searching for a sharp rock when she paused and thumped her forehead with the heel of her palm. She swam back up to Daniel and pointed her wand at the bonds on his feet.

“ _Relashio_!” Harriet called once more.

The jet of bubbles connected with the ropes and Daniel began to float free. Harriet grabbed hold of Daniel’s ankles and held onto them as Kazunari had done for Mayu, keeping Daniel in place. She looked around. Where was everyone else? The task had to be nearly over by now.

What would happen if the hostages were all left behind? The champions were supposed to rescue them in an hour, and the song had said they would be left to rot if not rescued in an hour, hadn’t it? Harriet bit her lip, thinking hard.

Just then, the merpeople began to act excited. Harriet looked and saw Cedric swimming towards them. He had also conjured a bubble around his head, as Kazunari had done.

Cedric was smiling as he swam up to Harriet.

“Got lost,” Cedric mouthed at her. “The others are on their way.”

Harriet nodded as Cedric pulled a knife from his pocket, cutting Cho free before swimming away towards the surface.

Now, Harriet felt really stupid. If Cedric wasn’t staying to try and save the others, there was no reason at all that Harriet should. Cedric surely wasn’t the type to just abandon someone. She began swimming off after him with Daniel in tow. Harriet felt a sense of elation. She was going to be back third. It wasn’t first, but it was better than last.

In fact, Harriet thought she might be catching Cedric. Her feet were paddle shaped, after all, unlike Cedric’s. She just might come in second place.

The sound of thrashing could be heard ahead of Harriet. She paused. What had happened? She began swimming forward again, faster than before. She was getting tired now from all the swimming, and having a hard time keeping the pace going.

Then, Harriet saw it. Just as Harriet had been, Cedric was now being attacked by a horde of Grindylow. Even worse, two had a hold of his arms, while another was trying to pop the bubble around his head. Meanwhile, two of them were pulling Cho away.

Harriet drew her wand once more and began swimming as fast as she could. Her heart was hammering hard. She was stopped short once again. She spun around looking at what had grabbed her ankle and her eyes widened to see a Grindylow with a familiar red mark. This time, it did not satisfy itself with just pulling on her ankle. It sank its sharp teeth deep into Harriet’s calf.

Harriet cried out in pain, dropping her wand. More Grindylow were swimming towards her, their long, threatening fingers outstretched as she did her best to hold onto Daniel. She shut her eyes, this was it.

_Baa-a-a-a-a!_

Harriet’s eyes opened. There was even more rustling and swirling going on in the water now. Harriet looked around in bewilderment. The large fish that had saved her before were once again attacking the Grindylows. However, in the lighter water, Harriet could see them clearly now. They weren’t fish at all, at least not entirely. The back half were fishlike, but the front halves were unmistakably those of goats. They were grown versions of the little creature Harriet had helped by the lake.

Their tails were mixes of colours, mottled and splotched much as normal goat fur was. The majority she saw were does, but there were a few bucks with long, flowing beards and long, curled horns that were doing most of the attacking and head-butting of the Grindylows.

The goat-fish swirled around Harriet, driving away the Grindylows once more. Harriet looked around. The Grindylows were still attacking Cedric and pulling away Cho. They had managed to pop his bubble, and Cedric was going blue in the face as he held his breath.

Harriet pointed at the pair. Without hesitation, the goat-fish shot off and began giving chase to the Grindylows around Cedric and Cho. The Grindylow fled the onslaught, and as Harriet watched, a pair of the goat-fish grabbed hold of the shoulders of Cho’s jumper in their mouths and began pulling her towards the surface. In the meantime, another pair put their shoulders under Cedric’s arms and began rocketing him to the surface as well.

Harriet suddenly felt a bit frantic. She had dropped her wand. She looked down at the inky black depths. She would never find it again.

Just then, something flitted up in front of her face. Harriet felt her eyes go wide as she saw the very same baby goat-fish that she had rescued swimming right in front of her. Its long, floppy ears were floating about happily in the water, and in its mouth was—

“My wand!” Harriet exclaimed.

She reached up and took the wand as gently as she could from the tiny goat’s mouth. The little goat bleated happily and did a little loop in the water. Then, it gave Harriet a little head-butt right on her forehead, which hurt sharply, but it seemed to be all in good fun as the little goat-fish turned and shot off in the direction its herd (or maybe school?) had gone.

Harriet stared after it. This was easily the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her, including being attacked by a giant troll. Harriet took hold of Daniel again and resumed swimming towards the surface.

It was even more difficult going now. The bite on her calf was paining her, and Harriet could see it was bleeding, leaving a faint red trail in the water. However, there was no more sign of the Grindylows.

Lighter and lighter the water got, until finally, they broke the surface. Harriet went to gasp, but realized that she still had her gills, and quickly ducked back under the water.

Above her, Harriet could see Daniel awaken immediately. He coughed and spluttered, and started treading water. He turned this way and that, and distantly Harriet could hear him calling her name. She swam up just under the surface and tugged on the hem of his coat.

Daniel started and turned around, looking down in the water. At once, his face split into a huge grin of relief. They started swimming back towards the shore where the crowd awaited. As they got near, Harriet felt the pain start at her neck again. Not only that, but she was becoming aware once more of how wet and cold the water was. Now she was having a hard time breathing, and her feet weren’t propelling her quite as well as before.

Harriet looked back at them. They had returned to normal. Just then, her lungs filled with water and she choked. She felt a strong hand grab hold of the back of her swimsuit and she was yanked upwards to the surface. She coughed hard, expelling an entire lung-full of water, hacking and groaning.

“You’re okay,” Daniel said, patting her back as they reached the shore and he could stand now. “You did it!”

“I… I did…” Harriet spluttered, before hugging Daniel tight around the waist.

The crowd around them was roaring in applause. There was splashing and Harriet saw that all of her friends, along with Remus, Sirius, Aurora and the girls, were running out into the water to greet them.

“You did it!” Hermione shrieked, leaping up and down in the knee-deep water.

“You made it back in under an hour!” Dora shouted with glee.

“Where’s Cedric and Cho?” Harriet asked, looking around.

“Madame Pomfrey’s tending to them,” Kieran explained. “Cedric got back half-drowned, something happened to his Bubble-Head Charm.”

“Yeah, they were attacked by Grindylows,” Harriet explained. “They just barely got away.”

“Oh, that looks nasty,” Marcus said, grimacing as he looked at the bite.

“Here, let’s get you over so Madame Pomfrey can get that cleaned up,” Daniel said. “Before it gets infected.”

“Look, here comes Fleur,” Marcus said.

Harriet looked around. Sure enough, Fleur was struggling out of the water, holding the little girl who looked so like her close to her side. The girl was trying to push away, saying something irritably in French as Fleur kept trying to look her over for any signs of injury before pulling the girl into what looked like a rib-cracking hug.

Just past Fleur, Harriet could see Krum and Aello clambering out of the water too. Aello was clutching her shield tight to her breast, while Krum was slipping the necklace around his neck, pressing its pendant tight to his chest over his heart. The pair stopped, breathing heavily, just looking at each other. Harriet didn’t know what was going on, but there certainly seemed to be a deep level of understanding passing between the two.

Harriet was distracted as strong arms grabbed hold of her and she was hoisted into the air and set upon a pair of shoulders. Harriet looked down to see that it was Remus and Sirius. Meanwhile, Madame Pomfrey was putting a heavy blanket over Daniel’s shoulders. She made him drink from a bottle of potion and at once steam began issuing from Daniel’s ears and he sighed in relief, stopping his shivering.

“And with that, folks, all of our champions are back! Unfortunately, only the first three champions made it back within the time-limit,” Ludo Bagman declared in his booming voice as Sirius and Remus carried Harriet along with the crowd making its way up to the stage.

The judges were all deliberating. Harriet noted that as with the Yule Ball, it seemed as though Percy had come in Mr Crouch’s stead. She had been so nervous before the task she had not even noticed.

This was not all. She didn’t see Professor Dumbledore either. She looked around to see that he was standing at the edge of the lake, speaking in Mermish to the same large mermaid that had spoken to Harriet at the bottom of the lake.

Sirius and Remus set Harriet down next to the judge’s table. Madame Pomfrey swooped down on her at once, glomping a large blanket on her and forcing a spoonful of Pepper-Up Potion into her mouth. Harriet felt the potion warm her from her core outwards, and her hair fluttered as the steam whistled out of her ears.

Madame Pomfrey forced Harriet down into a chair and propped her leg up on a foot-stool. She poured a potion over the bite. It stung and Harriet gasped in pain.

“Have to disinfect it, Potter,” Madame Pomfrey explained as she examined the wound. “Grindylow carry nasty bacteria in their bites.”

“If you say so,” Harriet said as Madame Pomfrey applied another dose of the potion.

There was a little sizzling noise, and Harriet grimaced, watching the potion bubble and fizz. She supposed that meant it was working, because Madame Pomphrey looked satisfied. Finally, Madame Pomphrey applied a soothing balm to it that made the pain abate, before wrapping the bite in a gauze.

Relaxing, Harriet looked around and took in her surroundings. Kazunari was nearby, wrapped in one of the blankets, holding his little sister tightly. Unlike Fleur’s sister, Mayu did not seem to mind so much, happily and proudly hugging her brother.

Cedric was nearby, looking dazed and confused as Cho rested his head on her shoulder, stroking his hair. Harriet twisted her lips a bit. Somehow, she felt as though she should be the one holding Cedric like that. She had been the one to save Cedric, after all, not Cho.

Krum and Aello were sitting nearby as well. They were steaming, but both were still clutching their stolen objects as tight as they could. Harriet furrowed her brow. Everyone else had been required to rescue people. What about their objects could be so important compared to other people? However, both Krum and Aello were still just looking at each other, that odd look of understanding still all over their faces.

Harriet was distracted by Bagman who spoke up again. “First back was the Four Nations champion, Kazunari Watanuki. He used the Bubble-Head Charm to amazing effect, and returned in just over a half hour with his hostage. This earns him full points!”

The crowd roared. Mayu gave a cry of joy and hugged her brother as tightly as she could around his neck. Kazunari’s eyes went wide and he patted Mayu’s back hard, clearly choking slightly.

“Second back was Cedric Diggory. Diggory used the Bubble-Head Charm as well, although it apparently failed shortly before reaching the surface.”

There was mixed cheers and jeers from the crowd at this.

“But, as second back, this earns Cedric Diggory forty-five points!”

The crowd gave over to full cheers now. Cho beamed down at Cedric, who gave a lazy wave around at everyone.

“Third back was Harriet Potter, coming in just before the end of regulation time,” Bagman continued. “However, according to the Mer-chieftainess, Miss Potter was the second to reach the hostages, and only left once she was sure that all the hostages were going to be safe.”

Harriet’s friends all gave her ever-suffering looks. Daniel however was giving her a kindly, proud smile.

“You didn’t really take that song that seriously, did you?” Ronnie asked, part impressed, part exasperated.

“Because of this, we have decided that instead of the customary forty points for finishing third, Miss Potter is receiving forty-five points for her strong moral fibre.”

The crowd burst into cheers again. Daniel laughed and grabbed Harriet up into a tight hug, her feet dangling in the air.

“That’s my baby-girl!” Daniel cried, twirling Harriet around once.

Harriet laughed in surprise, but hugged him tight back. She blushed as a familiar feeling swept over Harriet once more. She gripped her arms tighter around Daniel’s neck before faintly whispering in his ear.

“Thanks, Daddy…”

Daniel didn’t freeze, or otherwise react this time. All he did was hug her closer, stroking her hair. Then he jumped, pulling his hand away. Harriet heard a loud buzzing and lifted her head.

“Weird,” Daniel said. “There was a beetle in your hair.”

“Oh, must have picked it up swimming,” Harriet said as Daniel lowered her down to her feet again.

Meanwhile, Bagman had begun giving out the rest of the scores.

“As fourth back, Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons, returned outside the time-limit of an hour. As a result, she receives only thirty-five points.”

Fleur looked disappointed, but her relief in having her sister back safely quickly replaced it. Her little sister, however, did not seem as thrilled. They were still speaking to each other in rapid French. Just then, Harriet remembered Dora could speak French. She leaned over.

“Okay, so what are they saying?” Harriet asked.

Dora smirked. “Her sister, Gabrielle, is annoyed that Fleur took so long getting to her. Fleur’s trying to explain how she was attacked by a Grindylow that slowed her down. Gabrielle seems to think Fleur should have still been more eager to save her.”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Now, lastly, arriving consecutively, are Victor Krum of Durmstrang, and Aello of Mount Phoenix. Mr Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, while Aello used Gillyweed just as Miss Potter.”

Harriet looked at Aello, wondering where she’d got Gillyweed, before reminding herself that Aello went to school in Greece, on the Mediterranean, and would most likely know all about Gillyweed.

“According to Mer-chieftainess Murcus, Mr Krum was fourth to reach his stolen item, but was unable to free it in his half-shark form. Miss Aello was last, having gotten lost, and she remained to help Krum free his stolen item, before taking her own. At that point, her Gillyweed wore off, and Mr Krum turned back, further sacrificing his remaining time to get Aello to the surface safely.”

The crowd applauded and now both Krum and Aello, who for a while had been unable to take their eyes off each other’s, now had a hard time looking at the other.

“For their own moral fibre, as with Miss Potter, they are earning an extra five points, and so instead of twenty-five points, they will each receive thirty.”

The crowd roared once more. Harriet hugged Daniel tightly again. It was over. At long last, she had gotten through the second task, and done just as well as Cedric had, as far as points went.

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” Bagman went on. “The champions will be notified of what is coming, precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of your champions.”

Harriet felt as though she was floating as the crowd began making its way towards the school. It was just then that Harriet remembered something else. She began looking around frantically. Where was Fred? She hadn’t seen him in the stands or anywhere else in the crowd. Hadn’t he come to watch?

She felt a hand on her arm and turned to look. Relief and happiness filled her as she finally saw Fred smiling down at her. Fred, the one who was always there for her, and without whom she would never have gotten through the task. She flung her arms around Fred’s neck, hugging him tight.

“Thank you so much, Fred, so, so much.”

“Heh, s’nothing,” Fred said with surprising modesty for Fred. “Wanna talk somewhere more private?”

Harriet looked up at Daniel. He just smiled and softly cupped Harriet’s cheek before nodding. Harriet beamed and took Fred’s hand as the two wound their way through the crowd, finally coming to a quiet spot all alone.

“That was amazing…” Fred said, looking down at her breathlessly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Harriet said.

Fred looked as though he’d just taken a whole bottle of Pepper-Up Potion. He shrugged casually. “Oh, you know, well just yeah, someone had to do it, you know? Couldn’t let you, well—”

Fred was cut off as Harriet hugged him tight again.

“Fred,” Harriet said.

“Yeah?” Fred asked.

“Stop talking for once,” Harriet said, hugging tighter.

Fred chuckled, and just hugged her back.

“You’re always there for me,” Harriet said. “And… I never appreciated it until now…”

Fred didn’t say anything, just kept hugging her.

“You saved me at the train station,” Harriet continued. “You gave me this bracelet… you’re a pretty great guy when you’re not trying to be a scoundrel.”

Fred laughed. “Hey, I can be a great guy _and_ a scoundrel.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Point is… I guess after today, it just struck me like it never has… and I’ve never properly appreciated it. I’ve always kind of just, looked at you as a brother…”

Fred shifted uncomfortably.

“As a big, boasting, occasionally buffoonish brother. But you were always there and… you’re not my brother.”

Harriet looked up at Fred. He was looking at her with a raised eyebrow now, as though he really wasn’t following what she was saying.

“You’re a sweet guy, and you like me… for me… not just because I’m famous and all that rubbish…”

Fred chuckled uncomfortably. “Well, I’d… I’d be lying if I said finding out you were Harriet Potter didn’t really trigger my interest… but I guess that was more because like… you were nothing like any of us imagined you being. You were just so cool and normal.”

In spite of the moment, Harriet felt a pang in her stomach. This was exactly the same reason that Scott had said that Finn liked her. However, Fred was here, right now, holding her and smiling. He had come through for her in ways no one else had.

“So um… Harriet… I was kinda wondering… now we have a quiet moment to talk… would you like to maybe, um… well, shit… Hogsmeade’s gone now, isn’t it?”

Harriet blinked. “What?”

Fred’s flush rose. “I’m… I’m trying to ask… Ugh!” Fred exclaimed. “Why can’t I ever talk when I’m around you?!”

Harriet giggled.

Fred worked his jaw and lips as though working kinks out of them. “Okay… What I’m _trying_ to ask is, well… would you maybe like to go out with me?”

Harriet’s eyebrows rose so high she was sure they were gone in her fringe.

“As in… you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Fred slowly nodded. “If… if that’s too much, too fast or something, I understand…”

Harriet bit her lip.

“Though, if it is… how about we go on one date first?”

Harriet looked up at him quizzically. “A date? Where?”

Fred chuckled. “How about the top of the Astronomy Tower tomorrow night? I’ll get some food from the house-elves and we can have a little picnic, just the two of us?”

Harriet pondered this, then slowly nodded. “I would like that.”

Fred beamed.


	31. Dates and Dangers

“Some people I know are wary of good times, because good times, they perceive, are harbingers of bad times. This is not true, of course. Too many look at life from the frame of reference of the bad times, rather than the good.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet couldn’t return to Gryffindor Tower right away that night. Professor Dumbledore had asked all of them to assemble in the staff room off of the Great Hall for a few moments. Harriet could tell the other champions felt as awkward as she did sitting around the fireplace with nothing to talk about, as none of the staff had arrived yet, and none of them had been told why they were summoned.

“Heh, well here we are again,” Cedric finally said, apparently unable to stand the painful silence. Cedric looked more himself, now that the colour had returned to his cheeks and he was no longer shaking from the lungful of water he had swallowed.

“Yes,” Aello said. “Here we are…”

“Okay seriously,” Cedric said, turning to Kazunari. “I have to know. How did you get to the mermaids so fast?”

Kazunari simply shrugged. “I knew already.”

Everyone stared at him.

“You what?” Fleur asked.

Kazunari didn’t look abashed. “The song was mermish, yes? It said the merfolk were to take something. Only place the merfolk could be was on the lake bottom. So I went to look for them.”

Krum was shaking his head, though he looked amused all the same.

Cedric snorted. “You little sneak,” he teased.

Kazunari shrugged once more. “There was nothing in the rules that said we could not.”

The rest of the champions all exchanged sideways glances. Harriet knew they were all thinking the same thing as her: _why hadn’t I thought of that_?

“Is it true, what you said about your family?” Fleur asked Kazunari.

“Hai. My parents are not magic, but my sister is like me. My family is not wealthy… my father is a—what is the word? A man who catches fish?”

“A fisherman,” Cedric said.

“Hai, yes. Fisherman,” Kazunari thanked him. “That would make sense, yes?”

The group broke out into laughter at this.

Kazunari continued. “My mother runs a small food stand for the workers of the docks. My parents work hard, but they do not make very much. I want to pay them back for everything they have given me and Mayu.”

“And you are a svimmer?” Krum asked.

“Hai, I have been swimming since I could crawl. My parents thought that if I became a great swimmer I could… what is the phrase? Go somewhere?”

“How do you mean?” Cedric asked.

Kazunari’s face fell ever so slightly. “We are from Kamikoshiki, a little village in Kagoshima. There is only fifteen hundred people living there. Swimming, fishing, and working at the docks are all there is to do. My parents hoped that I could be a great swimmer, move somewhere worthwhile, start a family, live better than they did.”

The group digested Kazunari’s words. As they did, a thought occurred to Harriet.

“Is it true your sister wants to come to Hogwarts?” Harriet asked.

Kazunari beamed. “Yes. Ever since we learned that I am a wizard. We started looking at all the best schools, and Hogwarts was at the top of the list. She was overjoyed when she was told she is also magical.” Kazunari laughed.

“Why didn’t you come here, then?” Cedric asked.

“It is too expensive,” Kazunari replied. “That is why I am wanting to win the task. I want to help my parents and make Mayu’s dream come true. Although, I think Mayu just wants to live in a castle.”

Even Aello was hard pressed not to look touched at this.

“And vat about you, Potter?” Krum asked.

Harriet felt her stomach knot. Krum had never spoken to her directly before. Despite all the times she had seen him this year, Harriet still felt rather intimidated by him.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Is that why you are competing? For zose American students?”

“Oh,” Harriet said, the knot loosening. “Yeah, well, I mean not at first. Honestly, I really didn’t put my name in. But, they are my friends and they have been through so much.  They’re good people and so many people don’t like them.”

“That is most noble,” Aello said. “Taking a stand, knowing how it could hurt your reputation.”

Harriet blushed. “I-I don’t know about that. It’s just the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Fleur agreed.

Everyone turned to look at her.

“What?” Fleur asked, looking indignant and tossing her hair. “Okay, zo I am confident and am not afraid to show eet? Zat does not mean I have no feelings or sense of honour.”

“Very true,” Cedric agreed.

“So, ve know vhere Wat’nuki is from,” Krum said. “Vhat about you, Diggory?”

“We live just outside a little town called Ottery St. Catchpole, down in Devon,” Cedric explained. “Only child, in my case. What about you?”

Krum shifted on his feet. “I am from Kovachevitsa, in Bulgaria. We live up in ze mountains. It is vhere I learned to fly, in ze thin air, amongst ze peaks and valleys. Ze mountains are rather like here, covered in trees and alive.”

“Sounds very lovely,” Kazunari said encouragingly.

“It is,” Krum agreed.

“I am from Perpignan,” Fleur chimed in. “It is not too far from Barcelona, in Spain.”

“I have competed in Barcelona,” Krum said. “It is a beautiful area. I like ze varmth.”

“Thank you,” Fleur said. “Ze Delacours have lived there for centuries.”

Harriet looked around. She really didn’t feel like telling them all about her life. She didn’t get much choice, however, when the rest looked at her expectantly. Fortunately, Cedric came to her rescue.

“What about you, Aello? Think we all know the least about you?”

Aello looked as reluctant as Harriet felt. “I-I am from a commune, in the Ukraine,” Aello said.

“Is it really true?” Fleur asked. “You train in ze nude?”

Aello’s lips twitched. “No, I was just—how do they say it here? Pulling your leg?”

Cedric slapped his knee. “Well I’ll be buggered… stone-woman Aello made a joke.”

Everyone, even Harriet, broke out laughing at this. They chatted for almost another hour. Fortunately, Harriet was able to avoid any discussion about her home life with the Dursleys. Cedric further drove the topic away from families and home by turning the discussion to Krum and Aello’s strange ‘hostages.’

“So okay, Viktor, that pendant?”

“Ah,” Krum said looking down at it, and holding it up. “It vas my grandfather’s. It is the only family heirloom we have of him.”

“He was really killed by Grindelwald’s forces?” Aello asked.

Krum shook his head. “No, he vas killed by Grindelwald himself, I just…” Krum sighed pathetically. “I did not vant to seem like I vas using my grandfather’s death as an excuse to brag.”

Some silence passed before Fleur turned to Aello. “And your shield? A family heirloom as well?”

Aello hugged her shield tighter. She had never set it down since they came from the lake.

“Y-yes,” Aello said evasively. “It… it is all I have to connect me to them.”

Everyone sensed that Aello did not wish to speak further on the subject. Instead, the discussion turned to relationships.

“Non,” Fleur said dismissively after Cedric asked her about Roger Davies. “Roger was pretty, but a tad on the boring side. He was at least ze one boy here who seemed least likely to try anything funny if we ever had time alone…”

“What sort of guy do you look for then?” Cedric asked.

“I am looking for a man of principle; a man of action, strong and brave. Yet can also be kind, and gentle, and caring.”

“Good luck,” Krum snorted sarcastically.

The champions all burst with laughter once more.

“So,” Cedric said turning to Kazunari with a coy smile. “You and Alee Jameson…”

Kazunari grinned. “She is something, is she not?”

“You do know that she’s… you know?” Harriet asked.

Kazunari raised an eyebrow at her. “Of course I am knowing,” he said. “You think I am that much an idiot?”

“Well, no,” Harriet stammered, “I didn’t mean… I was just…”

“Alee is who she is,” Kazunari said. “She is kind, and she is beautiful. And she makes me feel special and important.”

“That’s awesome, mate,” Cedric said.

“Mate?” Kazunari asked.

“Yeah, like, you know? Friend.”

Kazunari blushed slightly.

“So, we are all competing,” Krum said. “Yet…”

“Yeah, I’d say we’re friends,” Cedric replied. “We’ve all helped each other in this competition just as much as we’ve competed. We all have great reasons we want to win.”

“If I did not know better, I would say zis was ze purpose of ze competition all along, non?” Fleur said with a floaty laugh.

Ten minutes later, Professor Dumbledore returned. He seemed pleased to find them all talking and laughing, apologized for his lateness and told them they could all go to celebrate with their friends. Harriet and Cedric waved goodbye to Krum, Aello, Fleur and Kazunari as they exited the front doors.

“Hey, thanks for… you know…” Harriet said to Cedric once they were alone.

“Don’t mention it,” Cedric said. “And thank you whatever you did that got the Grindylows off us. I thought we were done for.”

“I thought you were, too,” Harriet admitted.

“How did you drive them off? I’d just about passed out by that point.”

Harriet grimaced. “I… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Heh, try me,” Cedric said.

“Have you ever heard of anything that’s like… half goat, half fish?” Harriet asked.

Cedric gave her a bemused look. “No… no wait! But that couldn’t be…”

“What?”

“Well, that’s how the constellation Capricorn is often portrayed,” Cedric explained. “A big half-goat, half fish.”

“Huh,” Harriet mused.

“Are you saying that’s what saved us? Capricorn?”

“Not so much Capricorn as like… a whole bunch of them.”

“Weird,” Cedric muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Never learned about anything like them in Care of Magical Creatures?”

Cedric snorted. “No… to be honest, everyone harps on Hagrid about dangerous creatures but seriously, Kettleburn wasn’t any better.”

“No?”

“Oh no,” Cedric shook his head. “I mean, honestly, you saw him before right? That job literally cost him an arm and a leg.”

Harriet snorted. “Okay, that was terrible!”

Cedric grinned. “Yeah, never had the knack for it. That’s your boy Fred’s thing.”

Harriet felt her eyes widen at once.

Cedric winked. “Yeah, we all saw you sneak off with him after the task, and that smile on your face when you left.”

Harriet crossed her arms. Cedric however didn’t press the matter and changed the subject again.

“Anyway, that’s really crazy, though. Gotta wonder what else is in that lake, I thought the giant squid was crazy enough, but now there’s mermaids and whatever it was that saved us.”

Harriet snorted a short laugh. “Not wrong…”

“Well, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, Harriet,” Cedric smiled.

“Night, Ced,” Harriet replied.

Cedric grunted. “Ugh, don’t call me Ced. My dad calls me Ced all the time. If you call me Ced, I’m going to call you Hari.”

Harriet laughed. “Okay, okay, no Ced.”

Cedric waved and headed off down the stairs towards the Hufflepuff common room; Harriet heading up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. She was smiling to herself, but at about the halfway point, Harriet had to stop.

She was thinking about the task. Specifically, she was thinking about Daniel. In all the exhilaration of the task, there were a few things that Harriet hadn’t had time to truly think about before.

At once, the image of Daniel’s pale, lifeless face flashed across her eyes, and would not leave, as if burned into her retinas. Harriet stumbled sideways, leaning against a pillar. What would she do without him? She had almost lost him in the attack on Hogsmeade, and she thought she’d just lost him for real earlier that day.

Sure, Harriet had been on time and he was never in any actual danger, yet Harriet felt the most powerless she had ever felt in her life. She felt even tinier than she had when being attacked by Aunt Marge. Even if it had been real, there would have been nothing she could have done.

Harriet sank onto the plinth of one of the suits of armour. Her shoulders were shaking. She felt as though she was going to be sick. She couldn’t chase the image from her mind. Daniel; limp, green, lifeless, floating there in front of her.

She tried to force her mind to think of anything else that would cheer her up. She tried to picture Fred’s smile. She tried to picture the dream. She tried to picture Daniel’s face alive and smiling. She tried to imagine Nanette and Rosie wearing colanders on their heads with a pink and gold Hedwig.

Nothing worked. No image stayed. Instead, Harriet buried her face into her hands, pulled her knees up to her chest, and finally, all alone in the corridor, broke down and wept.

## * * * *

Things did not improve quickly for Harriet. She returned late to Gryffindor Tower, and received the telling off from the Fat Lady she’d expected to receive the night she snuck out after Crouch. Then, it turned out Rachel was not back after all. Apparently she had only been brought up to see the task and her friends as a treat to help cheer her up. As a result, Jackson went back to his sulking about the common room.

Then, the following morning it became clear that Hermione and Dora had not settled their differences after all. It seemed they had only worked together for Harriet’s sake, as at breakfast, Harriet found Dora once more sitting with her Slytherin friends, rather than with them. As usual, Ronnie joined her.

Harriet, meanwhile, was about at her wit’s end with both of them. Dora was continuing to insist that Hermione was too judgmental and had always been prejudiced against Dora ever since they met. Hermione was insisting that Dora was far too comfortable with the darker elements of wizarding society, and that their fight was Dora’s fault, not Hermione’s.

Harriet just wanted things to go as back to normal as soon as possible after all that had happened. As a result, for the first time ever, Harriet did not sit with the Gryffindors. Instead, she stopped Scott on his way to the Gryffindor table, and together they went to sit with his Ravenclaw friends at their table instead. Harriet was extra pleased when, seeing this happen, Kieran also rose from the Gryffindor Table and came to join them.

It was a unique experience for Harriet. She didn’t think she’d ever sat at a different table in the Great Hall before. Fortunately, Harriet was welcomed quite eagerly by the Ravenclaws. It seemed that in the wake of the last two tasks, they had finally put their doubts about her behind them.

“That was so amazing,” Padma Patil said. “You are so brave.”

“And clever too,” said Terry Boot, who had never given Harriet the time of day before, but now seemed deeply interested in everything Harriet said.

Now Harriet thought on it, many of the boys around the table were giving her their undivided attention. At once, she felt rather uncomfortable, and yet oddly flattered. However, she did manage to catch Fred’s eye back at the Gryffindor table. He gave her a little smile and wink that gave Harriet the butterflies again.

Scott was looking quite pleased that not only Harriet, but his best friend as well were sitting with him and finally getting to know his group of Ravenclaw friends. He introduced them to his dorm-mates Anthony Goldstein, Darren Cott, Michael Corner, Oliver Psy, Simon Shadow, and Terry Boot, along with the two third year twins, Liam and Riley Argall who had taken over as Ravenclaw’s beaters the previous year.

There were also the girls in their year, most of whom Harriet had already met. There was Atsuko and Tomomi of course, as well as Parvati’s twin sister Padma, Alyssa Munro, Charity Delacour, and Tabitha Dusk. There was also the five American Ravenclaws; Christina Clark, Kelly Werner, Maddie Roman, Nicole Green, and Sasha Brewer.

However, it was Tabitha Dusk who drew Harriet’s attention the most. Harriet had not thought on it, not being close with the Ravenclaws, but it only now struck her that Tabitha and Daniel had the same surnames.

“You know, I’m not quite sure,” Tabitha replied when Harriet asked her about the coincidence. “We might be distantly related on my father’s side. It’s hard to say really, but I’d never met him before until third year when we got to see his shop for the first time.”

“Dusk was a rather common surname a long time ago,” Terry Boot said, apparently eager to show off his knowledge. “But it waned with the times.”

“Yeah, just like Mallory did,” Michael Corner added. “A lot of old pure-blood family lines are dying out.”

“Doesn’t really matter though,” Scott chimed in. “I mean… most pureblood families are inter-related to one level or another.”

“Yes,” Charity said, leaning forward to look down the table at an older girl whom Harriet had never spoken to before. “Layla?”

“Hm?” Layla responded, looking up from her eggs.

“Isn’t your mum my mum’s third cousin?”

“Oh, yeah,” Layla replied.

“Right,” Terry Boot said. “And like your friend Dora, her mum is my dad’s second cousin.”

“Wow,” Kelly Werner said, barely containing her amusement. “And people say rednecks back home are bad.”

“Rednecks?” Charity Delacour asked.

“You don’t wanna know,” Christina Clark said, waving a dismissive hand.

“Is that like, a bad word for natives?” asked Riley Argall. “You know, like how mud…you know what… is here?”

The Americans all gave Riley dirty looks. Riley shrank a little, realizing he’d caused a deep offense, particularly to Sasha Brewer, who was staring down into her porridge. This confirmed what Harriet had suspected about Sasha from the moment she was the first refugee to be sorted: Sasha was a native.

“Hey, he asked a fair question,” Riley’s brother Liam came to his brother’s defense.

“No,” Christina said, coolly. “It’s not a term for natives. It’s a term for like… well… lower-class, white, country people…”

“To be honest,” Maddie Roman said, trying to sound kinder to Riley. “It’s like… most city people would refer to us as rednecks… being from the little towns we grew up in.”

The surrounding Ravenclaws digested that. Michael Corner shook his head.

“It’s so weird how you’re all so hung up on race over there,” he said, bewildered. “No one cares about that here.”

“No, you just care about what someone’s parentage is,” Kelly Werner retorted. “Because that’s so much better.”

“Yes, congratulations,” said a cold, waspish voice. “You’ve figured out discrimination of any kind is really stupid. Ten points.”

The group turned and looked up into the austere face of Peyton Riseman, the ‘queen bee’ of the American refugees.

“Really?” Riley Argall asked eagerly, looking over at the large hourglasses of gemstones that kept the tally of house scores.

Peyton gave Riley an exasperated look. “ _No_ ,” she said irritably.

Everyone went very quiet. Peyton had the uncanny ability, as with Professor McGonagall, to make one feel as though they were about to be in deep trouble. Peyton turned her cold, disapproving eyes on Harriet, looking down her long, Roman nose at her. Harriet felt her jaw clench.

“Potter, can I speak to you? In private?”

“O-okay,” Harriet replied. She rose and followed Peyton towards the Entrance Hall.

“And she wonders why no one likes her…” Harriet overheard Terry Boot mutter.

Peyton didn’t seem to notice as they exited the Great Hall. Peyton stopped and turned around to face Harriet again. To Harriet’s surprise, Peyton seemed to be genuinely smiling. She seemed to frown so often that Harriet actually had a hard time telling if it was a smile or not.

“I just wanted to thank you, Potter, for what you said yesterday.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome,” Harriet said.

Peyton shook her head. “No, really. You don’t understand,” Peyton sighed, crossing her arms. “We haven’t exactly been welcomed here. It’s getting better, but most students here they just… they really don’t know what we all went through. If you think Rachel’s the only one who’s had night terrors, you’re dead wrong.”

Harriet swallowed, listening.

“We just want to belong, but it’s hard for us, because we’re all so tightly knit. It’s easy for us to take things as threats when they’re really not. But, after that bitch’s article…”

Harriet grimaced.

“She… things got kind of bad again. Like… have you noticed how the mail has been coming later every morning?”

Harriet rubbed her cheek. No, she hadn’t really noticed, but then again she so rarely got letters compared to other students.

“Well… the mail’s being searched now before it comes to us. Professor Dumbledore anticipated it after Skeeter’s article… people were sending us a lot of hate mail, particularly howlers…”

“You’re kidding,” Harriet gasped. “People actually took that seriously?”

“You have no idea,” Peyton said. “Hordes of letters came… but I mean, you… you’re Harriet freaking Potter… and you just told the world that you’re competing in this tournament for us… and that… that’s going to mean something to people.”

Harriet swallowed again.

“So, all I really wanted to say was thank you, as sincerely as I could,” Peyton said and held out a hand to Harriet.

Harriet took it.

“You’ve done more for us than we’d have asked of anyone. You started out this task with hardly anyone on your side, and you took the chance on us anyway.”

Harriet smiled.

## * * * *

Harriet was relieved that the task had fallen on a Friday. This gave her two whole days to relax. However, by the time noon came around, all Harriet could think about was her pending date with Fred that night. They were going to sneak out together under the invisibility cloak so they could have some proper privacy.

At the moment, it was just after dinner, and Harriet was fretting as she looked through all of her clothes, both from Daniel and Scott’s cousin, Jess. Nothing seemed like it would be good enough.

“Ugh, I can’t wear that,” Harriet said, holding up the outfit she had received from the Dursleys for their dinner party with the Masons shortly before Harriet’s second year.

“Yeah, that can’t possibly fit you anymore,” Ronnie observed, her words a bit garbled as she munched on an apple she had swiped from the Great Hall at dinner.

“Oh, yeah,” Harriet admitted, miserably.

That hadn’t been why she thought she couldn’t wear it. It was because Fred had seen her wear it before, and she wanted to surprise him with something nice and new.

“Well, how about this?” Hermione said, taking out the outfit Harriet had worn for their testimonies the previous summer. “Just pair it with some tights and a jacket and you’ll be plenty warm.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said in relief. “I don’t think Fred’s seen this one, he didn’t come to that.”

“Fred won’t care what you’re wearing,” Ronnie said dismissively. “It’s Fred. You could show up in a burlap sack and he’d be happy.”

“Why yes, I think that would make him _very_ happy,” Lavender teased.

AJ fell back on her bed, laughing, as Parvati gave Lavender a high-five. Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “I just really want this to go well… I’ve never been on a date before…”

“Just let Fred do all the talking,” Ronnie insisted. “He always does anyway.”

“Oh hush, Ronnie,” Hermione hissed.

Harriet rolled her eyes and started to change. As soon as she was finished, Lavender and Parvati both swooped down on her.

“Right! Hair time!” they both declared with glee.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Harriet asked as they sat her down in front of Parvati’s vanity.

“Nothing, dear,” Parvati said, getting out a magazine of hairstyles.

“But as this is a real date with the most eligible bachelor in the school, this needs to be done properly,” Lavender added as she began combing Harriet’s hair out for her.

“Okay,” Harriet relented. “Just, nothing too crazy…”

“Oh of course,” Parvati said as she took out a small pair of scissors and a small ruler, measuring Harriet’s fringe before combing it out and beginning to trim it evenly so it hung straight down over Harriet’s forehead, rather than pulled off to the side.

“There we are,” Parvati said, smiling with satisfaction at her work while Lavender used her wand to curl the strands of hair that hung down either side of Harriet’s face.

Lavender finished and stepped around to join Parvati. She also smiled in approval.

“Oh yes, perfect,” Lavender agreed. “Frames your face beautifully, really brings out your eyes.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, looking in the mirror. She blushed softly. Lavender and Parvati had done a rather good job, after all.

“Yes, now I’d say a hint of blush, but if all it takes to get you to blush is the slightest compliment like that, you totally won’t need it,” Parvati teased.

Harriet rolled her eyes at them.

## * * * *

An hour later, Harriet was standing at the portrait hole, waiting anxiously. Fred had borrowed her invisibility cloak in order to get down to the kitchen and fetch them fresh food for the picnic. She was clutching her jacket close, hugging it to her chest rather than wearing it. Try as she might, Harriet couldn’t get Pixie Fanfarró’s comment about her chest out of her mind.

It didn’t help that boys kept stealing glances at her. Was wearing a bathing suit really all it took to set them all off like that? There had to be more to it, Harriet thought.

Harriet sighed with relief as the portrait hole finally opened and Fred climbed inside. He was carrying an old-fashioned picnic basket, as well as a large blanket. Harriet noted part of the invisibility cloak peeking out from under the blanket.

“Hey, you’re rea—wow,” Fred said pausing as he took in Harriet’s appearance.

Harriet felt her cheeks get very warm, and yet instead of wanting to run away and hide, she found herself smiling and feeling rather giddy.

“Really?” She asked, finally lowering the jacket so Fred could see her outfit properly.

“Really,” Fred agreed. “And I like what Parvati and Lavender did with your hair.”

Harriet blinked. “How did—?”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Fair point,” Harriet admitted, giggling.

He grinned handsomely. Harriet had to admit, Fred looked rather nice himself. He was wearing a black blazer over a forest green turtle-neck, with khaki slacks and brown loafers. He had also had his hair cut, it seemed, or at least cleaned up from its usual carefree shag.

Fred held out his arm for her. “Shall we, m’lady?”

Harriet smiled back, and obliging looped her arm into Fred’s. “We shall.”

They climbed out of the portrait hole together, and Fred quickly pulled out the invisibility cloak, twirling it over them with a flourish.

“Good gracious!” The Fat Lady exclaimed as they vanished from sight.

“Sorry, gotta disappear,” Fred called back as he and Harriet snuck down the stairs. “We’ll be back in a while.”

Harriet could hear the Fat Lady shouting after them but couldn’t make out what she was saying in the echoing staircase.

“You are such a brat,” Harriet teased him as they crept down, taking care to hop the trick step.

“It’s just how my mind works!” Fred replied. “I can’t help myself! Any opportunity there is to make a joke, or make people laugh, I have to go for it! It doesn’t matter how bad it is!”

Harriet giggled more. They reached the bottom of the stairs and headed down the corridor towards the Astronomy tower. All the while, Harriet kept checking the map to make sure the coast was clear.

Finally, they arrived. The wind was brisk, but as Fred laid out the thick blanket and they settled in under the parapet, Harriet felt warmer. She felt warmer still when Fred sat down beside her, much closer than he’d ever sat before.

Fred opened the basket. Harriet however furrowed her brow as she noticed something. Fred’s hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

Fred grimaced and rubbed his hands a bit. “Uh yeah, yeah a little bit. I’ll warm up though.”

Fred blew into his hands and smiled. “There we go, good as new,” he said as he dug back into the basket. However, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that his hands continued to tremble as he laid out the food.

The house-elves had done a marvellous job, in Harriet’s opinion. There was a large bowl of a hot, pasta dish made of little pasta shells, some cooked greens and what looked like goat cheese.

“The elves said this was ori… ore… orishettie something—I think—with, uh, raponi? And goat cheese,” Fred explained. “I don’t know, it smells great and I don’t know the first thing about fine dining.”

“You’re safe,” Harriet said. “Neither do I.”

Fred laughed. “Uh oh, I don’t know if this’ll work,” Fred said.

Harriet’s face fell. “What?”

“Hey you’ve eaten at my house, I have a certain culinary standard now set by my mother,” Fred explained, nodding very seriously.

However, Harriet knew Fred too well to buy this. The only times Fred was ever less serious than normal was when he was acting more serious than normal.

“Ha-ha,” Harriet rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

Fred winked and reached into the basket again, drawing out a large thermos and two tea-cups, followed by a marbled strawberry cheesecake.

“Wow, you are spoiling me,” Harriet said, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, it is my favourite thing,” Fred admitted.

Harriet tried to roll her eyes, but failed and instead had to look away to hide her nerves. Fred put a hand on top of Harriet’s.

“Sorry,” Fred said. “It’s just… ugh it’s so weird. Like I’ve known you for so long that talking with you like that just feels so natural, you know? And yet I’m… I’m terrified.”

“Terrified?” Harriet asked, shocked out of her bashfulness.

“Yeah,” Fred admitted. “Like… what if I screw this up and you never want to talk to me again? Not only that but I mean—ugh—how do I talk to you… someone so great, and so nice, and just so… everything I’m not?”

“Oh, Fred,” Harriet said, shaking her head. “You’re a great person.”

“Am I?” Fred asked. “Ugh, sorry, that’s not why we’re up here… we’re up here to have fun.”

Harriet shrugged. “I don’t know… I’m sort of liking getting the chance to actually talk to you.”

“Heh, yeah… usually we have my whole family around,” Fred said.

“Or all my friends.”

“True, they’re all pretty cool though,” Fred admitted. “Dora’s a hoot.”

Harriet smiled before sighing uncertainly. “Yeah… hey listen Fred, I really am sorry about what happened at the ball, I if I’d known that’s Dora was—”

“Hey, hey,” Fred said, cutting Harriet off. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Fred said, smiling. “You’re here with me now, not her, right?”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“So… how’s the bracelet?” Fred asked, changing the subject. “Been coming in handy?”

“Oh,” Harriet said looking down at it. “Actually, it might be finicky”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like okay… every time I’m around Professor Moody, it turns red.”

“Professor Moody?” Fred asked, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s so weird,” Harriet said. “Like it’s not always really bright, but one time it actually burned me.”

“Wow,” Fred blinked. “I didn’t even know it could do that…”

“Yeah, but that’s not all… There’s so much weird going on. There’s my bracelet acting up anytime I’m around Professor Moody, and about a month ago, I saw Mr Crouch on the Marauder’s Map, sneaking around in Professor Snape’s office without him knowing.”

Fred ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “Don’t know what to make of that… have you written to Daniel about it? Maybe he’d have an idea?”

Harriet grimaced. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“No, never occurred to me…”

“Well, now it has,” Fred said sounding more cheerful. “See, what would you do without me around?”

Harriet smiled softly. “Good point…”

Fred blushed. “Not that good a point… definitely haven’t been there as often as I could…”

“Oh, Fred,” Harriet said.

Fred sighed. “This has been such a weird year… Mum flipping her wig over Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes… all the crazy Bagman and money troubles… the attacks at the World Cup and now Hogsmeade…”

“Yeah, you haven’t exactly been the Fred I know,” Harriet said. “I’ve been kind of missing that Fred… always making me smile and laugh…”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been missing him too…”

Harriet studied Fred’s face for a moment. He was just staring up at the stars, his jaw set. Harriet slowly slipped her arm around his waist and cuddled up to him, resting against his side. He tensed a moment, looking down at her. His face softened.

“You do look great tonight,” Fred told her.

Harriet smiled resting her head on his shoulder. “You too.”

Fred cleared his throat. “You know; we should probably eat before our food gets cold.”

“That sounds great,” Harriet smiled.

Fred doled out some of the food into a bowl for her. Fred then took some for himself and they settled in to eat. The food was delicious as ever, and Harriet finally felt content as she leaned against Fred’s side and they ate.

Fred was very warm, and his breathing had calmed considerably. Harriet glanced up at him as he ate. As she studied him, she let her mind wander a little. She tried to imagine him in the dream, instead of Finn. She shifted a little, pretending to adjust how she was sitting, but really she just wanted to rub her arm against him, trying to imagine how he would feel when holding her.

 _Okay, I think I can get used to this_ , Harriet thought. She smiled a little when another thought occurred to her. She looked up at Fred again as the question built up in her mind.

“Hey Fred, can I ask you something?”

“What?” Fred asked.

“Well… just something I’ve been curious about since yesterday.”

“Ohhhhh,” Fred nodded slowly before taking another bite of dinner. “Yeah, totally looks like an upside down heart.”

Harriet had been just about to take another bite of her food but she choked and spluttered.

“Fred!” She exclaimed once she was done coughing.

“Oh, you mean that wasn’t what you were going to ask?” Fred asked giving her a wry smile.

Harriet flushed. It had been exactly what she was going to ask. She stuck her tongue out at Fred but he just laughed, setting aside his empty plate and putting his arm around her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Fred said hugging her close. “The stuff that makes you amazing goes way deeper than that.”

“Like what?” Harriet asked.

“Gee, let me think,” Fred said sarcastically, “You’re brave as hell, you’re smart, you probably have the biggest heart of anyone I know…”

Harriet grimaced. “No, I think Hermione has me there.”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, Hermione cares about issues, but I think she gets more of a thrill out of thinking she’s doing something. You though… you just _care_. About everybody.”

“Heh,” Harriet snorted, thinking of Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró, “maybe not everybody…”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Oh right, because even if those tramps who were making fun of you yesterday were stuck in a burning building, you wouldn’t be the first one volunteering to go save them.”

Harriet pursed her lips. She wanted to disagree, but she had to grudgingly admit to herself that Fred had a point. Fred continued to smile.

“But that’s what I like about you the most,” Fred said kindly.

Harriet chewed her lip. Slowly, she slid her arm around Fred’s waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at the stars.

“I think… I like just how free you are the most,” Harriet said. “It makes me feel like I’m free too, like I can do anything. Like I spent weeks trying to get into Professor Snape’s office, and you just waltz in and bam, we’re in.”

“Bah,” Fred said waving a dismissive hand.

“Seriously,” Harriet said looking up at him. “It’s amazing.”

Even in the moonlight, Harriet could see Fred blushing. She hugged his arm tighter.

“You’re always thinking and worrying about me, you were the one who got me away from the explosion in Diagon Alley and made sure I was okay…”

“Yeah… yeah I did…” Fred admitted.

Harriet grinned. As she looked at the stars, another thought occurred to her.

“Hey, Fred?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you know anything about the constellation, Capricorn?”

“Oh yeah, I know everything about it,” Fred said at once.

“…You don’t know a thing, do you?”

“Not a bit, no.”

Harriet laughed. Fred smiled more, before looking down at her.

“Why?”

“No reason, really,” Harriet said.

She wasn’t sure why she didn’t bring up the goat-fish. Really, she just didn’t want to think about anything else but the moment. Fred looked back up at the stars.

“Wonder which one it is?” Fred asked.

Harriet shrugged. “No idea.”

“Hm… let’s make our own.”

“Our own constellations?”

“Yeah,” Fred smiled. “Like there, those three?” he pointed with his free arm.

“Yeah?”

“Those are… the… hm… the Bracelet.”

“The bracelet?”

“Yeah,” Fred smiled. “That one I gave you.”

Harriet giggled, not really having the heart to tell Fred that the three stars were already part of the constellation Orion.

“What about that one?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, that’s the _Firebolt_.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Are you going to name everything after something to do with me?”

“Yep,” Fred said at once. “Hey, Harriet?”

“Hm?”

“You know that whole Bagman thing? The money?”

“Yeah?”

“I think…” Fred sighed. “I think I’m giving up on that.”

Harriet blinked in surprise. “What? Fred, that was all your savings he stole!”

“Heh, trust me, I haven’t forgotten that,” Fred muttered. “But… you know the night of the attack on Hogsmeade… I was talking with Sirius.”

“Yeah?”

“And well… he talked about regretting things; how much he regretted chasing down Pettigrew, how much it cost him… and it helped me realize that I was sort of doing the same thing. I was chasing someone who had wronged me so hard I like… I was neglecting what really mattered the most. I was being a jerk around you and angry all the time and yeah… you matter more than that money.”

Harriet felt her eyes mist slightly as she looked up at Fred. He just kept smiling down at her. Harriet thought before she quickly pushed herself up just enough to softly kiss his cheek. She held it for a moment, before letting herself back down and wrapping her arm around his waist again.

Fred smiled down before clearing his throat and looking up at the stars once more. Harriet kept softly smiling at him, resting her head on Fred’s shoulder. Fred resumed pointing out ‘new’ constellations, but Harriet wasn’t watching. She wasn’t really listening either. Instead, she was just looking up at Fred, studying the lines of his face, the size of his grin, the happy twinkle in his eyes, hearing the sound of excitement in his voice, and warmly smiling herself.

## * * * *

Harriet spent the next few days in a state of mild euphoria. In classes, her mind kept drifting off blissfully. She felt a distinct spring in her step everywhere she went. She didn’t even mind that Dora and Hermione were still fighting anymore.

She was still sitting with the Ravenclaws and Scott. It was as though she had turned a new leaf in her life. She was getting to know new people, the school was starting to treat her as a legitimate champion, people were saying hello to her in the hallways; everything seemed to be on the up and up.

The best part, however, was Fred. They spent Sunday hanging out in the common room with Erica, George, and Lee Jordan, helping them work on rebuilding Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harriet couldn’t help feeling so grown up as she talked with older students who were treating her like an equal.

Not even Professor Moody could get to her that Tuesday night. He seemed irritated with her for some reason, perhaps because Harriet was having such a hard time focusing on the lesson. That night, he was teaching her the Blasting Hex, _Confringo_. Harriet just couldn’t focus, not when she and Fred were planning on another picnic the following day to celebrate Fred’s seventeenth birthday.

“Control, Potter, control!” Professor Moody snarled.

“Sorry, Professor," Harriet said.

Her spell had failed completely in destroying the dummy. All it had done was leave a black scorch mark on the dummy’s nose.

“Well, good aim, anyway,” Professor Moody conceded, studying the mark. “Still, it takes focus to use _Confringo_ properly, Potter. It’s not point and shoot. You’re not lighting your wand, or turning a flamingo into a croquet mallet.”

Harriet swallowed. Professor Moody was finally starting to break through the veneer of Harriet’s happiness.

“This is a complex spell, Potter, powerful, very powerful. Useful in creating diversions and obstructions to aid an escape if you ever need to get out of a jam. As an Auror, you’ll find it equally useful in removing obstructions and barricades.”

Harriet digested this information, taking a deep breath and focusing. She aimed with her wand and concentrated.

“ _Confringo!”_

At once, her wand jumped in her hand. The jet of sparks shot towards the dummy. It connected with an ear-splitting bang and at once, the top half of the dummy from the belly-button up was disintegrated.

“Marvelous, Potter!” Professor Moody said stamping his walking stick on the ground in applause. “Damned good. Again!”

“ _Confringo_!”

The next dummy was equally destroyed. Harriet was breathing heavily. She was getting an oddly satisfying sensation from destroying the dummies. She felt as though loads of tension were being lifted off her shoulders with each one.

“Excellent work for tonight, Potter,” Professor Moody said at the end of the hour. “You never fail to impress in how fast you learn… very impressive… very impressive indeed.”

Professor Moody was studying Harriet closely once more. Harriet couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable again. Professor Moody was looking at Harriet as though he had never quite seen her clearly before. Harriet shifted, trying to look anywhere but Professor Moody’s eyes. She felt her right wrist starting get warm.

“Very well, then, Potter,” Professor Moody said, waving her off. “Off to bed with you. Next week I want a foot of parchment on possible uses of _Confringo_ in both defensive and offensive scenarios. No excuses.”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet agreed, before doing her best to walk from the room as fast as she could without looking as though she was trying to get away as fast as she could.

Harriet pulled her sleeve up as she walked down the hallway from Professor Moody’s office. The bracelet was blazing red again, but this time it had not burned her at least. She stopped and looked around. Was Mr Crouch around again?

The bracelet began to fade once more. Harriet looked back at Professor Moody’s office. Should she go back and check? No, Professor Moody would surely see her coming, given how paranoid he was.

She sighed. There was no sense in it. Not at the moment anyway. She resumed walking back to the common room. As she went, something else started weighing on her mind. The image of the destroyed dummies came floating back into her mind. Sure, they had just been dummies, but they had still been in the likenesses of real people.

Harriet felt rather queasy as an image flashed in her mind of a real person blown to smithereens like that. Then she thought of Rachel, and Tori, and the rest of the refugees. How many of them had seen that happen for real? And not just strangers, but their loved ones?

 _Peyton was right_ , Harriet thought as she continued on her path to Gryffindor Tower. _We don’t have a clue…_

## * * * *

Harriet once more had the spring in her step as she returned to Gryffindor Tower with Fred the following night. It was their second date, and it had gone just as well as the first. At the moment, they were both holding hands as they walked, letting go only to climb through the portrait hole.

Harriet’s smile vanished the moment she stood up. The common room was full, and the air felt electric. Harriet had a fleeting image of the night of Rachel’s breakdown but it was gone quickly. The students were all gathered around the fireplace, whispering and murmuring. Just audible over the fuss was a tinny, static sounding voice.

Harriet and Fred exchanged looks and hurried over towards George who had waved to them. He had his other arm around Erica’s shoulders. Erica had her hands clasped under her chin, her face stricken and her eyes unblinking. Harriet stepped up beside her, holding Fred’s hand once more as she tried to see through the crowd. There was a wizarding wireless set on the coffee table in front of the large couch by the fire.

“This is it,” Harriet heard Tori call. “Everyone be quiet!”

A hush fell over the crowd of students now. Harriet tilted her head and listened.

“And now in international news,” the smooth voiced announcer said. Harriet recognized the voice at once. It was Colm Negus, Finn’s younger brother. They had tuned into Rathlin’s radio station.

“Reports are coming in of a targeted guerrilla assault on a Union held outpost, Fort Kelso, on the Pacific Front of the American Wizarding Civil War. Details at this point are vague, however the standing Wizarding Government of the United States has released a statement on the attack.”

The whole room seemed to be holding its breath.

Erica leaned over to Harriet. “Tori’s parents were visiting Fort Kelso,” she explained, her face ashen.

Harriet looked over at Tori again. She was rocking a little, Basheera and AJ were sitting either side of Tori, their arms around her shoulders.

“The attack came at 1100 hours, Pacific Standard Time on February the 28th. Fort Kelso is located sixty-miles northeast of Bakersfield in California. Unionist forces report twenty-seven were killed in the attack, with at least twice as many wounded. This attack has come as a shock to Unionist forces, as this is the farthest west Secessionist forces have attacked.”

“Talk about Mom and Dad!” Tori shouted at the radio, Basheera and AJ hugging her tighter.

“It is believed the attack was carried out by a unit from the Rocky Mountain faction of the Separatist forces. Given Fort Kelso’s size, approximately 1,800 personnel, it is thought this attack was a targeted assassination attempt. The suspected targets for the attack were Unionist general, Lawrence Juliani, who was visiting the base on an inspection tour, Arnold Hoffman, hero of the 1992 tri-city tragedy of North Dakota who was also visiting the base as part of a morale tour with his wife, Clemence—”

The room went deathly still. Every eye in the room was turned onto Tori. Tori was ghostly pale, staring unblinking at the radio.

“—and finally the large refugee camp that had been set up just outside the base. There is no word yet as to the welfare of the general, or the Hoffmans.”

“What?!” Tori shouted, leaping to her feet and picking up the radio, shaking it. “Don’t give me that! Are they okay?!”

“Tori!” Basheera gasped, jumping up as well and taking the radio from Tori before she smashed it. It was a considerable leap on Basheera’s part, given how much taller Tori was than her.

Tori collapsed back on the couch, burying her face into her hands. She didn’t seem to be crying. She seemed to be too lost in despair for tears. Harriet knew that look all too well. It was the same look Hagrid had the night Buckbeak was supposed to be executed.

Fred gently took Harriet’s hand. She looked up at him, sighing and resting her head on his shoulder. They stood watching as Gryffindors remained crowded around Tori, comforting her.

“This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, isn’t it…?” Harriet asked, glancing over at Erica.

Erica opened her mouth, closed it again, before finally giving a deep sigh and nodding.

## * * * *

The next day was a long one for the Gryffindors. Tori was exempted from classes, as the uncertainty over the fate of her parents loomed. She did not get out of bed for breakfast that Thursday, but Basheera was able to coax her out for lunch and dinner.

Come Friday, Tori would not get out of bed at all, no matter how hard any of them tried. Basheera and AJ would bring her food, and she would eat, but she would not get out of bed. When it came time for everyone to go to bed that night, Tori’s curtains were already drawn. Basheera peeked through a gap in the curtains to check on Tori, but she sighed and gave the other girls a sad, helpless look before heading to her own bed.

Saturday morning, Harriet woke and stretched. She was finally starting to feel better after the dark mood of the last two days. Harriet pulled open her curtains and looked around the room.

“Mornin’,” AJ said, sounding despondent.

Harriet blinked, confused momentarily as to why AJ was sounding so down when she suddenly remembered and looked quickly to Tori’s bed.

Tori was gone.

Hermione sniffed, rubbing her arms.

“She… her mother came in the night…” Hermione said in a little voice. “I was just awake enough to overhear…”

“Her mother?” Harriet asked, first feeling relief, then feeling her heart sink. “So, does that mean…?”

No one responded. Harriet felt a sense of numbness wash over her. She had no idea how to feel about this. On the one hand, Tori had lost her father, on the other, her mother was still alive. Yet, Harriet knew that thought wouldn’t comfort Tori at all. How could it comfort anyone? She had still lost one of her parents, someone she looked up to, who had been a hero; who had saved people from a total massacre.

AJ was staring blankly at the door.

“AJ…?” Parvati asked, cautiously.

“What… what if she never comes back?” AJ asked, sounding so distracted that Harriet wasn’t sure she was actually responding to Parvati.

“What?” Lavender asked.

AJ didn’t look at her, just kept staring at the door.

“What if she doesn’t come back? What if Rachel doesn’t come back? I’ll be the only one left…”

“Oh, AJ,” Hermione said, hurrying over to her.

AJ just kept staring. “One by one we’re all going…”

“Oh don’t say that,” Hermione said kindly, hugging AJ’s shoulders.

Harriet grimaced. They managed to talk AJ into getting dressed before heading down for breakfast. As so often happened at Hogwarts, news had apparently travelled fast. At all of the tables, the refugees were looking sullen. None of them were eating, either staring at their plates or at best poking the food around with their forks.

No one seemed to blame them. The person who had all helped them escape death was now dead, himself. Harriet was starting to hate herself, she couldn’t even remember Tori’s father’s name. She had met him at New Year’s. He and his wife had seemed so happy, and Tori so happy to be with them.

Now, that was never going to happen for Tori again. Harriet had never gotten to experience that to begin with, so she didn’t think she could truly appreciate what it felt like to lose someone like that. Then, she remembered her small breakdown the night after the second task.

 _Maybe I have some idea_ … Harriet thought.

That night, Harriet was sitting in the library with Scott. Neither of them were in the mood to play their game tonight. Instead they were staring at their books. Harriet wasn’t absorbing any of the information on the pages.

“Potter? McIntyre?”

Harriet and Scott looked up. Peyton Riseman was approaching them, her arms crossed and her face set.

“Yes, Peyton?” Scott asked.

Peyton’s lips pursed a bit. Peyton never referred to anyone by their first names, Harriet had noted.

“Come,” Peyton said simply, jerking her head back towards the door. “Been looking all over for you.”

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked.

“Vigil for Mr Hoffman,” Peyton replied.

Harriet and Scott exchanged look.

“We’re invited?” Scott asked.

“’Course,” Peyton said. “We made you all one of us, right?”

Harriet and Scott glanced at each other again before they started packing away all their books. They followed Peyton from the library and down several corridors. As they went, it occurred to Harriet that they were going to Professor Dumbledore’s office. They arrived to find two Aurors standing guard at the gargoyle which was already moved to the side, allowing access to the spiralling staircase.

The trio stepped onto the staircase and moments later were entering Professor Dumbledore’s study. The room had been cleared, and now was full of rows of chairs. The chairs were almost entirely filled already with the American students. Peyton directed Harriet and Scott to a row at the back where Dora, Hermione, Kieran, Marcus, and Ronnie were already sitting. Harriet noted that even now, Dora and Hermione were sitting at opposite ends of the row.

Harriet and Scott made their way to the two open middle seats and sat. Now she was settled, Harriet took in the room. The first people she saw were Tori and her mother, who were sitting beside Professor Dumbledore’s desk. Tori was shaking, while her mother had her arm around Tori’s shoulder. Harriet puzzled over Tori’s mother for a moment. Mrs Hoffman had just been in a terrible attack, and had just lost her husband, and yet she was looking around at all the gathered students and giving them kind smiles here and there.

Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, while to his other side stood a tall, imposing woman, who wore her hair in two blonde braids. She was dressed plainly, in a white button up shirt with khaki slacks, and had a long, brown coat hung over her arm. Harriet was struck by the odd thought that this woman looked more like she would be Tori’s real mother than Tori’s actual mother did.

Harriet gave a sad little wave at Daniel and Aurora who were standing in one of the corners with the twins. Nanette and Rosie returned her wave. Harriet noted that both of their eyes were over-bright.

Professor Dumbledore rose. There was no need to ask for silence. No one was talking. Professor Dumbledore spread his arms wide.

“Welcome,” Professor Dumbledore said solemnly. “You are all here to bid your farewells to a kind, brave, and loving man, Arnold Hoffman.”

Professor Dumbledore paused, surveying the room before sighing. “I know there are no words I can give to truly comfort your grief, and it is not my place to try and tell you what sort of man he was. You all knew the kind of person Arnold Hoffman was. And so, instead, I would like to invite anyone and everyone to share any memories they have of him, however small and insignificant they might feel, because even the tiniest moments are a testament to the fact a man lived, and affected your life.”

Professor Dumbledore closed his hands together and sat. At first, no one spoke or moved, then finally, from the front row, Harriet saw Rachel stand up.

“I… I guess… I never knew Mr Hoffman as well as some… cuz we were from Belview, but… I do remember how every year for Triple-Town Tizzy… Mr Hoffman would always cast a shrinking spell on his voice box, so his voice got all really high and squeaky like a mouse whenever he gave his speeches…”

There was a wave of choked giggles at this. Harriet wasn’t exactly sure what a Triple-Town Tizzy was, but it sounded amusing.

Mrs Hoffman smiled kindly at Rachel. “Yes, my dear… Arnold loved the Tizzy… it was his favourite time of year… He loved making all of you laugh…”

“I remember how much he loved the dunk tank,” Ari Miller chimed in.

“Yeah,” one of the third year Gryffindor refugees, Cassidy Godfrey agreed. “How he always had his wand behind his back… and he’d block all the balls from hitting the target thingy until he saw someone not smiling and he’d have them come up and—” Cassidy choked “—and he’d trigger the target so he fell in… whether the person hit it or not…”

A Hufflepuff who Harriet didn’t know spoke up now.

“I… I remember how every Christmas he’d dress up as Santa…” the girl said, sniffling but smiling. “And he’d go around to every house in the towns with toys… he gave me a doll the Christmas… the…”

The girl sat down, unable to speak anymore. Mrs Hoffman smiled kindly at the girl. “Yes, he loved all you children,” she said. “Nothing made him happier than making you all smile.”

“I… sorry this is going to sound so horrible,” Peyton said now, rising from her seat. “But I’ll always remember how much the other mayors hated him for that stuff… cuz you know… they were muggles… and they just never understood how he did it all, how he was always so happy all the time and could always provide for us… he always inspired me like that… to always do what you know is right, no matter what other people think of you…”

There was more sniggering amongst the group at this. There were still tears in many eyes, but more and more smiles were starting to appear. The next to rise was another Hufflepuff, Meredith McQueen.

“I… remember… I remember that night… when we all got away… and we were all hiding in that barn…”

The group went very quiet at this. Harriet could tell this was another painful memory.

“And Mrs Shea was having such a hard time keeping her baby quiet, and Mr Hoffman spent the whole night playing peek-a-boo to keep him happy and quiet…”

Meredith sniffled, brushing back her straw-blonde hair from her eyes. “It was just so… there was so much dangerous had just happened… there was so much else he had to worry about but he still took the time to make sure a baby was happy…”

Mrs Hoffman rose now. She took a deep breath, before hitching another smile back onto her face.

“My… well my memory may seem a more private one, but it will always stand out… as it was the day our family became whole… I will always remember the day I told Arnold that I was pregnant with Tori.”

Mrs Hoffman smiled down at Tori. Tori did look up at her mother, but did not return the smile, and just as quickly resumed her vacant look. Mrs Hoffman however did not seem to mind as she continued her story.

“When I first told him, he just froze. We were in the kitchen making dinner and I… I asked him about baby food… and if we should start getting any…”

There was a little wave of quiet “awwws” that washed over the room. Mrs Hoffman wiped her eye, but kept smiling.

“And he just looked at me, and I could see all the gears turning in his head, moving into place and suddenly he just broke out in this biggest smile and was just… positively trembling with joy. He hugged me and kissed me before dropping to his knees… his face to my tummy… I couldn’t hear what he was saying… and I never thought to ask… but after a full minute of that, he finally looked up at me again and asked: ‘You swear you’re not pulling my leg?’”

The room broke into more laughter. Even Harriet chuckled, imagining the scene in her head.

The giving of memories continued. Soon, everyone had given their stories. Everyone, except for Tori. Many eyes were turning to her. Tori was still staring blankly straight ahead, lost in her own head. Harriet suddenly felt her legs move on their own, lifting her to her feet. Everyone turned to look at her now, more than one with a look of surprise.

“I… I uh…” Harriet stammered awkwardly. “I only met Mr Hoffman once… last Christmas holidays. He was visiting Tori and Mrs Hoffman and I was staying with Daniel and Aur—Professor Sinistra and her daughters…”

Harriet gave them another wave.

“Anyway… I just… it’s little but I just remember how nice he seemed, and how he wanted to sit down and have a drink with us all in the Hog’s Head… and he called it a ‘nice, quiet little place’,” Harriet said.

She felt colour rushing to her cheeks as she slowly sat. Her memory felt so lame compared to all the others, but she both wanted to share something, and she wanted to take the attention away from Tori.

Mrs Hoffman’s lips tightened as looked kindly at Harriet.

“Yes,” Mrs Hoffman agreed. “That’s just like Arnold… he always valued that which was different… what was unique and special…”

Professor Dumbledore rose again. “Thank you all for sharing such special memories… for it is these memories where Arnold will live forever in your hearts. And now—” Professor Dumbledore drew his wand, giving it a flick and causing candles to appear in the air in front of everyone “—We will have a moment of silence for Arnold, as we pass the flame, lighting each other’s candles.”

Professor Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, and the candle of a girl in the first row lit. She turned to Kenley Tyler, who lit her candle on the girl’s, before turning to light her sister’s candle. The room was so quiet Harriet could hear all the slightest creaks of the chairs as people turned in their seats to pass the flame. Professor Dumbledore gave his wand another flick and the lights in the room went out except for the lit candles. On and on the flame went, lighting more and more candles. As it passed, the room slowly grew lighter and lighter.

“As the flame spreads, so does our impact on the lives of those around us,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Each of us touches the lives of everyone we meet, no matter how brief. What impact we leave depends entirely on us. And so we see that even after one such as Arnold is gone—” Harriet lit her candle off of Scott’s before turning to light Ronnie’s “—the pain you feel now, the darkness, is easily overpowered by the light of the memories he left behind.”

The room was almost as brightly lit now as it had been before from all the candles. Harriet’s eyes widened at the realization.

“Always do what you can to share love with everyone you meet,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “And perhaps… all of the world can be once more filled with light, in the wake of all the present darkness…”

There were many quiet murmurs of assent at this. Out of the corners of her eyes, Harriet saw both Hermione and Dora lean forward and exchange looks. They both caught Harriet looking and quickly sat up again, pretending nothing had happened.

“And now… we shall end on a musical note. Mr Negus, I believe we are ready now.”

“Yes, Headmaster.”

Harriet’s neck cricked as she whipped her head around, looking at the back of the room. In the dim candlelight, Harriet could just make out Finn, sitting in the back corner with Professor Howe. Harriet wondered how she could have missed them when she came in.

Finn picked up his guitar, took a deep breath, and began to play. The plucked and strummed notes were haunting and slow, before Finn started to sing.

_Well how do you do, young Willy McBride?_

_Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside_

_And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun?_

_I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done_

_I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen_

_When you joined the great fallen in nineteen-sixteen_

_I hope you died well_

_And I hope you died clean_

_Oh young Willy McBride, was is it slow and obscene?_

 

Harriet blinked. Why was Finn singing this song? Singing about some soldier’s possibly obscene death. She looked around at the refugees, but no one seemed upset by it as Finn went into the chorus.

 

_Did they beat the drums slowly?_

_Did they play the fife lowly?_

_Did they sound the death march as they lowered you down?_

_Did the band play the Last Post in chorus?_

_Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?_

 

Harriet could hear more people sniffling around her as Finn continued into the second verse.

 

_Did you leave here a wife or a sweetheart behind?_

_In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?_

_Although you died back in nineteen-sixteen_

_In that faithful heart, are you forever nineteen?_

_Or are you a stranger without even a name_

_Enclosed then forever behind a glass pane_

_In an old photograph torn, battered, and stained_

_And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?_

 

Harriet was staring at Finn. He was having a hard time with that verse. His voice cracked once or twice, and he choked once, though he seemed to recover himself as he repeated the chorus.

 

_The sun now shines o'er the green fields of France_

_There's a warm summer breeze that makes the red poppies dance_

_And look how the sun shines from under the clouds_

_There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no gun firing now_

_But here in this graveyard it's still No Man's Land_

_The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand_

_To man's blind indifference to his fellow man_

_To a whole generation that were butchered and damned_

 

Harriet bit her lip. Now she was starting to understand the song.

 

_Now young Willy McBride, I can't help but wonder, why?_

_Do those that lie here know why they died?_

_And did they believe when they answered the call?_

_Did they really believe that this war would end wars?_

_For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the shame_

_The killing and dying were all done in vain_

_For young Willy McBride it all happened again_

_And again, and again, and again, and again_

 

Finn went into the chorus once more. Harriet looked back around at Tori. Now that all eyes were on Finn, it seemed Tori had finally broken down. Her arms were flung around her mother’s neck, her face buried into her mother’s shoulder, and her own shoulders were heaving and shaking in her sobs. Harriet felt her own heart breaking for Tori, for everyone else.

 _What’s wrong with the world?_ Harriet thought. _Why is this happening? Why is this war happening? What’s it gaining anyone? All it’s doing is tearing these people apart. None of them did anything to deserve this._

Harriet was pulled back to her senses. Finn had stopped playing and everyone was applauding. Finn was standing, and at first Harriet thought he was going to bow. Instead, he gave everyone a little wave, before he started for the door. The applause continued as he reached the handle, turning it.

Harriet was staring at him. Why was Finn leaving? What was going on? However, as he pulled the door open, Harriet saw Finn pause. He turned his head just enough to give her a sideways look. He took a slow breath through his nose, gave her a sad little smile, and then left the room, shutting the door behind him.


	32. The Scourge of Skeeter

“The lust for power exists in many forms. Whether it’s one who wants to be head of state, or a child playing king of the mountain. It is the one thing you can always count on when it comes to dealing with others.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Very quickly, Marcus’s proclamation that things couldn’t get worse was being proven very wrong. The vigil for Mr Hoffman ended right after Finn’s song. Harriet hurried from the room to try and find Finn, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Harriet didn’t know why she was feeling so guilty. Finn had told her to be with Fred, Fred had liked Harriet far longer than Finn had, and Fred was right here. Fred was good to her, and made her feel special and smart and grown-up.

What she really wanted to know the most was about that look Finn gave her just before he left. Had he been upset about her? Was it about the vigil for Mr Hoffman? Was it the song? She had noticed his voice break once or twice while he sang.

The next problem was AJ. With Tori now gone, along with Rachel, the Gryffindor fourth-year girls were all feeling particularly low. AJ was the worst off. In her mind, her prediction that she was going to be the last one left was already confirmed, even though Tori’s mother assured all of them that Tori would return in a week or so.

Most of the teachers seemed to be taking pity on the Gryffindors, and weren’t assigning very heavy work. Professor McGonagall, however, seemed to think that extra schoolwork would be a good distraction to take the students’ mind off their woes.

There were a couple good things to come out of the previous week. Doctor Watkins returning to declare that Kieran could resume using only his leg-brace, rather than needing his shillelagh regularly. Even if it made his walk more stitled, Harriet could tell that Kieran was enjoying the greater freedom of mobility the brace allowed him.

Another good thing was Hermione and Dora were finally putting their differences aside and were at least tolerating each other’s presence. Harriet could tell that neither were completely over their grievances with the other, but it seemed that in the wake of Mr Hoffman’s vigil, and Professor Dumbledore’s words, they had decided to at least attempt to put their differences aside.

This did not lead to a complete return to normality. Instead of returning to sitting at the Gryffindor table, Harriet was now insisting that everyone join her, Kieran, and Scott at the Ravenclaw table instead. For a week, at least, Harriet felt that things were getting better. Even though Tori and Rachel were both gone, and AJ was still gripped with melancholy, Harriet thought perhaps she and her friends were having a new beginning.

Come Friday, Harriet realized that this was far too good to be true, and her troubles with Rita Skeeter had only just begun. The class was heading down to Potions. As they arrived, Harriet saw the Slytherins gathered outside the door as usual. Also as usual, the Parkinson, Fanfarró, and Zabini gaggle of Slytherins were huddled together, whispering excitedly to each other and throwing dark grins at the Gryffindors as they came.

“That can’t be good,” Marcus muttered as he noted the wicked looks the Slytherins were giving them.

“No, it can’t,” Dora agreed, eyeing her housemates suspiciously.

Zabini grinned maliciously, holding up a magazine. “Might find something of interest in here, O’Brien, and you, Potter,” Zabini said.

Harriet took in the magazine. She recognized the title, _Witch Weekly_ , from the Weasley’s house. Mrs Weasley read it. On the cover was a curly haired witch, smiling a toothy smile at everyone while pointing her wand at a large sponge-cake.

Zabini tossed the magazine at Kieran, who caught it. Kieran gave Zabini and the rest a confused look when Professor Snape opened the door and beckoned the students inside. Harriet, Kieran and Ronnie all sat together at a table. They waited until Professor Snape’s back was turned before they bent down to read as Kieran took the magazine out again.

Kieran began quickly flipping through the pages before stopping. They did not need to read the headline to tell it was the article in question. The article featured a large, colour picture of Harriet in her swim suit, waiting for the Second Task to start.

The article was titled: _HARRIET POTTER’S SECRET HEARTACHE_

“Oh Merlin,” Ronnie whispered.

 

Harriet grimaced and read.

 

_A girl like no other, perhaps_ ; y _et a girl suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence,_ writes Rita Skeeter. _Deprived of love since the tragic demise of her parents, fourteen-year-old Harriet Potter thought she had found solace in a steady boyfriend at Hogwarts, Kieran O’Brien. Little did she know that she would be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Mr O’Brien, a plain but ambitious boy, seems to have a taste for famous witches that Harriet alone cannot satisfy. It has been reported that during the Yule Ball, a customary event as part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Mr O’Brien not only did not attend the ball with Miss Potter, but he was seen strolling into the gardens at the ball with none other than Alessa Selene, already witching fashion’s biggest name on the brink of her fifteenth birthday._

_Not only that, but shortly thereafter, Miss Selene was seen fleeing the site, in great haste and looking quite upset. Mr O’Brien was left alone in the gardens, apparently having had his stick knocked aside by Miss Selene as she fled (or perhaps it was knocked away by Miss Selene to facilitate her escape?)_

_However, it might not be Mr O’Brien’s doubtful natural charms which have captured the unfortunate girls’ interest._

_“He’s really kind of gross,” says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student. “He always goes around with a walking stick, and acts like he has a bad knee, but we’ve all seen him walking around without it, so he probably just uses it to manipulate people into pity crush on him.”_

_“He’s also really close friends with this really brainy loser girl, Hermione Granger. She might make love potions for him.”_

_Love potions are of course banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harriet Potter and Alessa Selene’s well-wishers both must hope that, next time, she bestows her heart on a worthier candidate._

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding,” Ronnie gasped. “She actually went after a crippled kid—”

“Ronnie!” Harriet hissed.

“Sorry,” Ronnie muttered.

Kieran was shaking his head at it, snorting in disbelief.

“She’s barking,” Kieran said, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the stool next to them. “Complete rubbish.”

“I don’t know,” Ronnie whispered. “My mum reads that junk…”

Harriet glanced at the Slytherins, Blaise, Pansy and Pixie in particular. They were all watching Harriet and Kieran closely. Harriet snorted back a laugh. Dora and her friends Courtney Thomas and Sae Miyazaki were sitting directly behind Blaise, Pansy, and Pixie. Dora and her friends were all making faces and threatening motions towards the other Slytherin trio behind their backs. Dora was pretending to strangle Pansy, while Courtney was pulling off a crazed face and making stabbing motions over Pixie’s head, and Sae was pulling glamorous poses, mocking Blaise’s pretty-boy attitude.

Professor Snape’s chalk stopped scratching and everyone quickly busied themselves taking out their potion ingredients before he turned around. Harriet found herself barely able to focus as she worked. The more and more she thought about the article, the angrier and angrier she became.

How _dare_ Rita Skeeter talk about Kieran like that? Insinuating that he has been faking his injury all this time. Harriet had seen Kieran’s scarred and bruised knee several times now, and it was never an easy experience.

“Potter!” Professor Snape barked almost halfway through the lesson.

Harriet jumped. Professor Snape was standing over her, glaring down his hooked nose at her.

“Y-yes, sir?” Harriet asked, so quietly she could barely hear herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Zabini, Parkinson and Fanfarró’s little gang flash their _Potter Stinks_ badges at her. Professor Snape sniffed irritably, pointing at her cauldron.

“What is this?” he asked, coldly.

“It’s… uh…” Harriet stammered.

She looked into her cauldron and grimaced. Unlike Kieran’s potion, which was a rich, forest green with the consistency of a freshly opened can of paint, Harriet’s was a sickly sea green and so thick her stirring rod was standing straight up in it.

“It’s wrong, Potter, is what it is,” Professor Snape said. “Clearly you need more direct instruction. I have come to expect better of you in this class. Gather your things, you will work at the table right in front of my desk.”

Harriet set her jaw, and felt her face burn. There was another wave of _Potter Stinks_ from the Slytherins as she gathered up her things and carried them up to the front of the room. Professor Snape took his seat at his desk. Harriet was grudgingly amazed by the fact that even when they were almost at eye-level with each other, Professor Snape gave the impression he was looking down on her.

“So…” Professor Snape said quietly, so only Harriet could hear. “Congratulations on the task…”

Harriet blinked, still gritting her teeth. Professor Snape’s tone made it very clear that he was not genuinely praising her.

“Gillyweed… clever… can’t imagine where you got it…”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. In an instant, she remembered. Professor Snape had given something secret to Sirius that Harriet was to ask for if she didn’t figure out how to get to the bottom of the lake on her own. It must have been gillyweed, Harriet realized.

“You gave Sirius Gillyweed?” Harriet asked.

Professor Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Yes… although I surmised it was destroyed in the attack… however I could not help but notice the morning of the second task that I received an inconvenient assault by Peeves… which conveniently lined up with my entire jar of Gillyweed, and only the jar of Gillyweed, vanishing from my office…”

Harriet felt her chest tighten. Professor Snape knew. Just how much trouble was she in, now? At that moment, without even a knock, the door to the classroom opened. Everyone turned to see none other than Professor Ilves, the Durmstrang headmistress, standing in the doorway.

The class went very quiet as she came in. She looked down her nose at them all, much in the same manner as Professor Snape did. She wrinkled her nose at the smell emanating from Crabbe and Goyle’s cauldron, before making her way towards Professor Snape’s desk. Professor Snape, Harriet noticed, had gone even more sallow than usual.

“Ah, Professor Ilves,” Professor Snape said, with a fairly unconvincing attempt at casual unconcern. “What may I do for you?”

Professor Ilves crossed her arms. “You know why I am here, Severus,” She was trying to keep her voice down, but Harriet was sitting so closely she could hear every word.

Professor Snape’s faux-congenial nature disintegrated at once. “Not now, Aloyna,” he growled dangerously.

Professor Snape looked out at the class again. All the students began furiously working once more, trying and failing to pretend they had not been listening in. Harriet’s eyebrows were furrowed in curiosity. Professor Snape was on first-name basis with the headmistress of Durmstrang?

“Then when, Severus?” Professor Ilves said. “You have been avoiding me all week.”

Professor Snape was working his jaw angrily, glaring at the opposite wall now.

“After…” Professor Snape growled.

Professor Ilves crossed her arms, but she still crossed over and leaned against one of the shelves of potion ingredients. She was staring at Professor Snape, as if she was suspecting that he would vanish if she took her eyes off him. However, as the class continued, she began to let her curiosity get the better of her and she began looking over the racks of ingredients with interest.

Harriet was grateful for Professor Ilves’ appearance. By the looks of it, Professor Snape had forgotten about Harriet completely. Professor Snape meanwhile was now moving about the classroom, telling people off for improper stirring techniques and not having the flames under their cauldrons to the right height.

Finally, class was over. However, unlike usual, Harriet was in no great hurry to leave the room. Instead, she kept stirring her potion (which was now the proper colour), sitting low behind her cauldron.

“What is so urgent?” She heard Professor Snape growl at Professor Ilves.

Harriet felt a sense of shock to hear Professor Snape address someone so senior to him so aggressively.

“Show me your arm,” Professor Ilves fired back.

“Aloyna, this is ri—”

“I said show me your arm! I am not stupid, Severus, I know it is there!”

Professor Snape snarled a little before he finally yanked up the left sleeve of his robes. Harriet audibly gasped. There was a mark on Professor Snape’s arm, much like a tattoo. However, it wasn’t just any tattoo. Harriet recognized the mark at once. It looked just like the giant, green skull and snake that had appeared in the sky over the campgrounds after the Quidditch World Cup.

Professor Snape and Professor Ilves both looked around at Harriet. Harriet grimaced. They had both heard her gasp.

“Potter!” Professor Snape barked. “What are you still doing here?”

“I was just finishing my potion, sir,” Harriet said. It was at least partly true.

“Get out,” Professor Snape snarled. “You are done for the day.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harriet said, hastily gathering up her things. She emptied out her cauldron, rinsed it, then hurried from the room as fast as she could.

Once outside, Harriet paused to catch her breath. After that, her mind began to race. Why did Professor Snape have a tattoo just like the Dark Mark?

Harriet’s mind was whirling now. It wasn’t just filled with wonder and worry about Professor Snape. She was remembering Rita Skeeter’s article. What did this mean for Kieran? She remembered Peyton telling her that after Rita Skeeter’s article about the American students, people sent them howlers and other hateful mail. Harriet shook her head. Nothing about life was going to get any better any faster it seemed.

Harriet didn’t know what made her do it. Before she took one more step away from Professor Snape’s office, she pulled up her right sleeve and looked at her bracelet. Harriet’s heart jumped. Her bracelet had turned red.

## * * * *

The following day was a Saturday, and a particularly subdued one at that. It was the first scheduled Hogsmeade weekend after the attack. However, with no more Hogsmeade to visit, the third years and above spent the day lounging about the common room despondently. Some were making vain attempts at doing homework, but no one looked as though their hearts were in it.

Harriet hadn’t told any of her friends about Professor Snape and her bracelet, or the odd scene she’d watched between him and Professor Ilves. Despite her new worries, she couldn’t help but feel that she would start to sound like the boy who cried wolf if she suggested it was Professor Snape one more time.

It was not that alone. There was also the way that Professor Snape had helped her try to rescue Ginny. Surely Professor Snape couldn’t really be bad if he had done that, could he? He’d even gotten his leg crushed (though healed by Madam Pomfrey) while doing so.

Hermione half-heartedly suggested they head down to the kitchens to check on Winky. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen her,” Hermione said. “It would be good to make sure she’s okay…”

“She seemed okay the last time,” Ronnie said, sounding reluctant.

“Well, getting out and about would be good,” Scott chimed in, smiling a bit more optimistically.

“Yeah,” Kieran agreed. “Bit bleak in here…”

They rose and headed down to the kitchens together. Harriet did hurry over to where Fred sat with George and Lee Jordan working on their _Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes_ product ideas to give him a quick peck on the cheek before following her friends out of the portrait hole. Harriet’s friends were all giving her amused looks as she climbed out after them.

“What…?” Harriet asked, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Nothing,” Scott smiled, putting an arm around her shoulder as they resumed walking. “You’re just adorable.”

Harriet looked away, feeling ruffled, but flattered all at once.

“So, are you two ‘official’ yet, or what?” Ronnie asked, making little quotation marks with her fingers as she said ‘official.’

“I… well… I don’t know,” Harriet admitted. “We had our date for his birthday and well… that was the night Tori found out about the attack…”

“Oh, yeah… that’s a serious mood killer,” Marcus agreed.

“Yeah, then last week we were just busy with school and everything…”

“Well, if he hasn’t said you’re not… I would say it is perhaps safe to say you are, even if unspoken,” Hermione reasoned.

Scott sniggered.

“What now?” Harriet asked.

“Just it’s kind of funny… of all of us to get into a relationship first, I don’t think any of us thought it’d be you.”

Harriet pursed her lips. She was starting to feel ganged up on once more.

“Sorry,” Scott said giving her shoulder a squeeze. “It’s a guy thing, we tease people we like.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that much I’d figured out.”

They arrived at the kitchens. Hermione tickled the pear and the door handle appeared. The group entered and were immediately met with the crowd of cheerful, smiling faces of the Hogwarts house-elves.

Much to Harriet’s surprise, it was Winky who was at the front of the pack.

“How wonderful it is to see you young Sirs and Misses,” Winky said bowing deeply.

“Wow, that’s a turn-around,” Marcus said.

“Winky has found purpose, Sir,” Winky said cheerfully. “Winky is now head elf of Hufflepuff table!”

“Winky, that’s wonderful,” Hermione said.

Everyone gave her rather quizzical looks. Hermione flushed.

“What? I can be happy for her if something positive happens,” Hermione said loftily. “Even if I’d rather she was treated equally to humans for her work.”

The house-elves all began looking apprehensive as Hermione said that last bit. Hermione did not seem to notice. However, as she looked down at Winky, a thought did occur to Harriet.

“Hey, Winky?” Harriet asked, kneeling beside Hermione. “I have a question.”

“Yes, Miss?” Winky replied, smiling jovially.

“Well, you—um… you don’t happen to know what your old master, Mr Crouch might be up to? Because he stopped coming to the Tri-Wizard Tournament?”

Harriet regretted asking this almost instantly. Winky’s eyes went wider than they already were, and seemed to gloss over slightly.

“Master is stopped coming…?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said, feeling more and more like a heel with every passing moment. “We haven’t seen him since the first task, but the other night, I—er—I saw him sneaking around in Professor Snape’s office.”

Winky gasped, shaking her head. “Oh no, Miss, oh no, that is not like my master at all!”

“I know it isn’t,” Harriet replied “that’s why I was asking.”

“Professor Snape is a good, brave wizard!” Winky declared. “My master is telling Winky what great things he has done!”

Everyone stared, taken aback at this.

“What has Professor Snape done?” Harriet asked.

“Professor Snape did great things for the Ministry of Magic, Miss! Things Winky is not telling! Winky cannot tell! Top secret, Miss!”

Harriet and her friends all exchanged looks. The only thing Harriet knew for certain now was she was deeply confused.

## * * * *

Come Monday morning, Harriet’s worries were finally starting to get to her. As they sat at their new place with the Ravenclaws, instead of eating any breakfast, Harriet was staring at the wall, chewing her thumbnail.

“Harriet?”

Harriet started, looking around. Everyone was staring at her. Harriet looked down and realized she had chewed nearly all the white off the end of her thumbnail.

“Sorry,” Harriet half-sighed. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Kieran shook his head.

“What?”

“You’re just so secretive this year,” Kieran said. “It’s just not like you…”

Harriet opened her mouth to say something but found she had nothing to say. Instead she just thumped her forehead down on her empty plate.

“Sorry…” Harriet said, miserably. “There’s just so much going on and I never know how to talk about any of it, or if I ever should.”

Harriet felt Dora put a hand on her back between her shoulders. Harriet blinked a couple times. It was not the usual sort of pushy, domineering gesture Dora often had around her. Instead it was calming, and comforting. Harriet looked up at Dora and saw Dora looking down at her with a searching, worried look.

Harriet sat up, looking around her group of friends. All of them were wearing the same look, even Ronnie.

While deep down, Harriet appreciated their concern, she found that more than anything she was annoyed. Didn’t any of them have anything better to worry about? Why was there always some problem with her that they needed to meddle with?

Harriet was spared thinking on this further when the post arrived. Harriet noted that Hermione was looking up at the birds excitedly.

“Expecting something from home?” Harriet asked.

“No,” Hermione replied. “Waiting for a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. I’m sick of always having to learn about everything from Parkinson, et al.”

“Smart,” Kieran smiled but then frowned as a large grey owl landed in front of him, followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

“Uh, what?” Kieran asked, befuddled as the owls all crowded around him, nearly knocking over his goblet.

Kieran set his goblet aside, and took the letter from the grey owl. He opened it and read, his eyelids rising higher and higher with each word.

“You’ve got to be joking…” Kieran muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What is it?” Ronnie asked, leaning over to look.

Kieran set the letter down on the table for everyone to read. The letter was not handwritten, but looked as though it had been made from letters cut and pasted from _The Daily Prophet_.

_You are a WickEd boY. HaRRieT PottEr desErves BetteR. gO BuGGer youRseLf wItH YouR STiCK!_

“They’re all like this,” Kieran said in exasperation, opening more letters. “’Harriet Potter can do much better than the likes of you…’ ‘You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn—’ Ouch!”

Kieran opened the last envelope and at once a yellow-green liquid poured out onto his hands. The air was full of the smell of petrol, and Kieran’s hands immediately began to break out into large, yellow boils.

“Undiluted Bubotuber pus!” Ronnie said, grimacing at Kieran’s afflicted hands.

“Ow, ow!” Kieran gasped, trying to wipe the pus from his hands. Unfortunately, they were now so covered in sores that he could barely flex his fingers.

“Here, mate,” Marcus said, rising and hurrying around the table.

He and Scott both helped Kieran to his feet and off of the bench. Harriet bit her lip watching as the three boys headed off for the Hospital Wing. Dora meanwhile had picked up another one of the letters. “ _I read in_ Witch Weekly _how you played Harriet Potter false. That poor girl has had enough hardships and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find an envelope large enough_.”

“Blimey,” Ronnie said, shaking her head. “He better watch out for himself.”

“Oh, I’ll get her for this,” Hermione said, her hands clenched tightly into fists. “First Hagrid, and now Kieran. Kieran has never hurt a soul in his life!”

They bid Dora a gloomy farewell before they headed down to Herbology. Marcus showed up on time, but without Kieran. “Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be fine, but it’ll be an hour or two,” Marcus explained.

After Herbology, it was over to Hagrid’s for Care of Magical Creatures. As they neared his cabin, Harriet saw a fresh stack of crates arrayed around Hagrid’s feet. Harriet’s heart sank. Surely, Hagrid wasn’t about to start them off on another batch of Skrewts.

However, Harriet (and by the looks of it, the rest of the class) were in for a surprise. Instead of Skrewts, the crates contained fluffy, black creatures with long, anteater like snouts. They had very wide, spade-like front paws, and were looking up at the gathered students with an air of benign interest.

“These’re Nifflers,” Hagrid explained as the class gathered in. “You find ‘em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff—there yeh go, see?”

One of the Nifflers at that moment had leapt up in its crate, trying to bite at Pansy Parkinson’s wrist watch. Pansy shrieked, leaping back from the crate.

“Useful as treasure detectors,” Hagrid continued, as if nothing had happened. “Thought we have some fun with ‘em today. See over there?”

The class looked to see a patch of the ground in front of Hagrid’s cabin had been dug up.

“Buried some gold coins in there. I’ve got a prize fer whoever picks the Niffler that digs up most. Jus’ take off all yer valuables, an’ choose a Niffler an’ get ready ter set ‘em loose.”

The girls in particular quickly set to work removing earrings, necklaces, and hairclips. Free of temptations, Harriet picked up one of the Nifflers. Its fur was silky smooth, and it sniffled all over Harriet’s face, her ears particularly. Harriet giggled.

“Hang on,” Hagrid said, looking in one of the crates. “Got a spare Niffler here, who’s missing?”

“Kieran,” Marcus said. “He had to go to the Hospital Wing.”

“We’ll explain later,” Ronnie muttered.

It was by far one of the most fun lectures they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The Nifflers dived in and out of the ground as though it was water. Each time scurrying back to the student who had released them with a mouthful of coins. Ronnie’s was by far the best. By the end of class, Ronnie’s pile was at least twice as large as everyone else’s.

“Can you get these as pets, Hagrid?” Ronnie asked, watching with glee as her Niffler made another dive.

“Yer mum wouldn’t like it at’tall, Ronnie,” Hagrid chortled. “Nifflers’ll tear most houses to shreds. Impossible ter house-train. I reckon that’s about the lot, now. Oh, there y’are, Kieran!”

Kieran was approaching them across the lawn. His hands were wrapped in heavy bandages. Harriet was grateful for Doctor Watkins’ knee-brace, as she was sure there’d be no way for Kieran to hold onto his walking-stick in that state.

“Well, le’s check how yeh’ve done!” Hagrid called. “Count yer coins—an’ there’s no point tryin’ ter steal any, Goyle,” Hagrid’s eyes narrowed. “It’s leprechaun gold. It’ll vanish in a few hours.”

Goyle emptied his pockets, sulking. Ronnie’s Niffler had been the most successful, and so she received an enormous slab of Honeydukes’ chocolate for a prize. According to Hagrid, it was some of the last purchased from Honeydukes before the attack. Ronnie, who had been looking at the slab hungrily as Hagrid handed it to her, changed her expression at once when he told her its origin, and instead she stuck it delicately inside her bag, as if it was a priceless antique.

“What happened ter yer hands, Kieran?” Hagrid asked, his face full of concern.

Kieran sighed and explained the whole story about the hate mail he had received. Hagrid shook his head.

“Aah, don’ worry,” Hagrid said gently, resting a massive hand on Kieran’s entire upper back. “I got more’n a few of those letters an’ all after what Skeeter wrote about me an’ me mum. ‘Yeh’re a monster an’ you should be put down.’ ‘Yer mother killed innocent people an’ if you had any decency you’d jump in a lake.’”

“No!” Hermione gasped.

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, heaving the Niffler crates over to his cabin wall. “They’re jus’ nutters, Kieran lad. Don’ open ‘em if yeh get any more. Just chuck ‘em straight in the fire.”

They were about to leave when another thought struck Harriet. She waved her friends on, remaining behind to ask Hagrid a question.

“Hey, Hagrid?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, Harriet? What’s on yer mind?”

“I… I had a question, about the creatures that live in the lake…”

“Oh yeah,” Hagrid asked, grinning eagerly. “What about ‘em?”

“Well, like… what kinds of creatures live in the lake?” she asked.

“Hmmm,” Hagrid thought. “Well, yeh got most yer normal kinds’r fish, plus the merfolk, an’ the giant squid.”

“Anything… a bit more unusual?” Harriet asked.

“Well, what yeh mean?”

“Like… half-goat, half-fish?”

Hagrid’s beetle eyes bulged at once. “No…” Hagrid gasped, looking quite astonished.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “I’ve seen them three times now.”

“Aigikampoi,” Hagrid muttered, sitting on his doorstep. “Here, in our lake?”

“Uh, I guess?” Harriet replied.

“I jus’ can’ believe it,” Hagrid said, running a massive hand through his thick, tangled hair. “Thought ter be extinct, they are! And ter think they’re right here! Where’d yer see ‘em? How many?”

Hagrid was looking at Harriet with keen interest now.

“I… I first saw one a little before the second task. I was on a run with Professor Sinistra and I found one that had caught its tail in the branch of a bush. I freed it and it disappeared into the lake.”

“Well, I’d say yer made a friend fer life, there,” Hagrid said.

“I guess I did, because when I was down in the lake, I was attacked by Grindylows, and a whole school or herd or whatever of those… what did you call them?”

“Aigikampoi.”

“Right, those. A whole bunch of them came to my rescue. Twice.”

“Oh, I don’ doubt that at’tall,” Hagrid nodded sagely. “Aigikampoi are some of the most loyal, benign creatures ter ever exist. They’re right shy, but iff’n yeh can prove yerself to ‘em, there’s nothin’ they won’t do fer ya. They come off the western coast of northern Italy, they do. Famous fer helping sailors stranded at sea from shipwrecks, guidin’ them ter shore and chasin’ off sharks and the like.”

“So how did we get some here in our lake?” Harriet asked.

“How’d we get a giant squid?” Hagrid asked, shrugging. “Been here long as the school has, I reckon. This here lake was made tens-er-thousands of years ago, carved out by glaciers. Used ter be connected ter the sea once. Reckon that’s how the squid got in. Sames way that kelpie got stuck in Loch Ness.”

Hagrid rubbed his bearded chin, deep in thought. “I’ll ‘ave to ask Perfessor Dumbledore about it, maybe he knows, or can talk ter the merfolk ‘bout ‘em. Maybe they know summut. Aigikampoi, here… can you believe it!”

“Yeah, I uh… I guess I can,” Harriet said. “I mean, I saw them for real and all.”

Hagrid chuckled. “Sorry, jus’ not every day yeh hear about summut like that. It’s like when I met Epeius fer the first time. Downright miracle.”

“Well they certainly didn’t seem dangerous,” Harriet said. “Unless you’re a Grindylow. The baby one that I saved fetched my wand for me after I dropped it the second time the Grindylows attacked. Here, look.”

Harriet drew her wand and held it up for Hagrid. There was still the faint impression of teeth where the little goat-fish had bitten down on the wand.

“Well I’ll be,” Hagrid said, studying the marks closely. “Have ter tell Nick an’ all, too. He’ll go spare, he will. B’tween this an’ that orb he found.”

“Orb?” Harriet asked.

Hagrid flushed, handing Harriet back her wand. “Er, ‘snothin’,” Hagrid said unconvincingly. “Jus’ a private matter ‘tween him and Perfessor Dumbledore.”

Harriet knew Hagrid too well to press him further. While he was useful for divulging secret information when he wasn’t thinking about it, once Hagrid had wised up there was no use trying to get more information out of him.

Harriet bid Hagrid good day and started back up to the school for lunch. On the one hand, she had finally learned what the creatures in the lake were. On the other, she now had a new mystery nestling in her mind. Professor Sutler and whatever this orb was.

## * * * *

Predictably, the following day saw another wave of hate mail arrive for Kieran. Kieran didn’t open any of the letters, although two turned out to be Howlers, which exploded, filling the Great Hall with their ringing, magically amplified voices, spewing all sorts of vitriol down on Kieran.

“Seriously,” Kieran grumbled, removing his hands from his ears after the second howler finished. “You’d think I murdered you or something, Harriet.”

Harriet sighed.

“I know I’ll get her somehow…” Hermione growled, much like Crookshanks when annoyed. “Just you wait…”

“Well, you know,” Marcus said, sounding reluctant. “I do still have some people I’m in contact with from all the Lockhart stuff… I could have them look into it.”

“What’s there to look into?” Kieran said miserably. “Anyone could have told her about me and Alessa…”

“What puzzles me the most is why you?” Scott mused, rubbing his chin. “I mean okay, you stood up to her once, but this seems petty, even for Rita Skeeter. She has to have some other motive…”

“But what could that be?” Kieran asked, exasperated.

No one had any response to that. Just then, there was some flapping from overhead. Everyone looked up in wonder to see a massive, white seabird with a wingspan that looked as long as Hagrid was tall swoop into the room, carrying a large package. It circled the room once before it looped around to one end of the Ravenclaw table, flying in low towards it as if the table was a landing strip.

“Oh no!” Scott gasped and grabbed his plate and goblet off the table. “Albatross!”

“Alba-what?” Ronnie asked.

It was too late. The albatross touched down on the table and immediately face-planted. It skidded down the table, knocking asunder plates of kippers and bowls of porridge, before sliding to a halt right in front of Kieran.

“Well,” Ronnie spluttered, wiping egg yolk from her nose. “That was new…”

“It’s an albatross,” Dora echoed. “It must be from Rathlin.”

“Who would be sending me something from Rathlin?” Kieran asked, reading his name off the package.

The great, white bird got to its large orange feet and stretched its long wings, causing students at the Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff tables to duck under them. It took a slight run and jumped, giving its wings a powerful flap getting itself airborne again. It circled the room a few times, gaining altitude before finally exiting through the hole in the ceiling.

“Yeah, that was different,” Marcus agreed with Ronnie. “But kinda fun at the same time…”

“What’s the package?” Dora asked, looking on with interest.

Kieran slowly opened it, clearly cautious after the previous days Bubotuber pus incident. He pulled on one of the ends of the ribbon tying the box shut and the box promptly sprang open. Everyone jumped back, expecting the worst but were surprised by what they saw.

It was a flowerpot, full of some of the loveliest flowers Harriet had ever seen. Some of the flowers had white petals with blue veins running all through them like zebra stripes. The bases of the petals were golden, as were the stamens and pestles. The others were a soft ruby colour, fading to an orange-yellow middle. They were radiating a warm, sweet smell that left Harriet feeling refreshed and calmed.

“Wow,” Scott said. “Evening Primrose, and Plumeria’s. They’re some of mum’s favourites.”

“They’re beautiful,” Dora agreed. “Who sent them?”

“Ummm,” Kieran looked around for a card “Oh, here.”

Kieran plucked up the card. He opened it with a bit more confidence this time. Harriet supposed the flowers were enough of a sign that the sender meant no ill will. Kieran pulled out the letter and read. As he did, his face grew redder and redder.

“Well, who is it?” Marcus asked.

“It… it’s from—from Alessa…” Kieran stammered.

“What?” Dora asked, leaning forward and plucking the letter from Kieran’s hands

“Dora,” Hermione hissed in reprimand.

Dora paid her no mind as she read aloud.

 

_Dear Kieran,_

_I’m so sorry for what happened. I never meant to hurt you like that. I had no idea I’d hit your walking-stick. I was just in such a blind panic I wasn’t paying attention to anything. I feel so stupid about what happened, even more stupid knowing what I did because of it. I hope you like the flowers. They’re zebra evening primrose, and some plumeria rubra. I looked through a lot of more special, rare flowers, but none of them looked right. These I thought looked a lot prettier and unique. And the plumerias smelled amazing._

_Please don’t judge me by what happened. My privacy is just very important to me, and to have it just whipped aside like that I just didn’t know what to do. I hope you like the flowers. You’re a very kind person, and the world definitely needs more of you in it._

_All the best in the world,_

_Alessa Selene_

Marcus whistled.

“Wow,” Dora said handing the letter back. “Alessa Selene… sounds like she might be a little sweet on you.”

“Ha-ha,” Kieran snorted. “Very funny.”

“Kieran… one of the biggest names in wizarding fashion sent you beautiful flowers and a hand-written apology letter,” Dora said sardonically. “This is kind of a big deal.”

Kieran’s face was still really red. He folded the letter, stuffed it back into its envelope before shoving it into his bag.

“Kieran,” Hermione reprimanded. “That was a very nice gesture.”

Kieran’s shoulders were sagged. He looked utterly defeated.

“Just don’t care anymore,” Kieran said. “I’ve never done anything but try and be nice to people, and this is what I get? What’s the point anymore?”

Everyone exchanged glances. No one knew what to say. Harriet had never seen Kieran so low before.

“Hey, you still got us, gloomy Gus,” Dora said, putting her hands on her hips.

In spite of himself, Kieran snorted giving Dora an incredulous look.

“Gloomy Gus?!” Kieran exclaimed, doing his best to hold back laughter.

Dora leaned back, crossing her arms giving Kieran a smug little smile. “See, I knew you still had it in you, ‘Mr I Give Up’.”

Even Kieran had a hard time not laughing. Harriet didn’t know why, but somehow, something inside her warmed as she watched Kieran place his hands on either side of the flower pot, pull it closer, lean down and sniff the flowers, and smile.

## * * * *

The hate mail for Kieran did eventually slow over the course of the week. By the time Saturday rolled around, Kieran only got one nasty letter.

“See,” Dora said dismissively. “They always lose interest after a while. The public is crazy fickle like that.”

“You never said that,” Kieran retorted, raising an eyebrow.

“It was implied,” Dora said, sipping her pumpkin juice.

Everyone rolled their eyes. Harriet felt that, no matter what happened, at least there were bright moments to hold on to. Even if she did have to continue her lessons with Professor Moody.

That Saturday night, Harriet was once more in Professor Moody’s office learning advanced defensive magic. Tonight in particular Harriet was having a difficult time. It had less to do with the difficulty of the spell, and more to do with Harriet’s unwillingness to perform it.

“Damm it all, Potter, not like that, like this!” Professor Moody snarled, taking hold of Harriet’s wrist. “Twirl three times clockwise and flick. You twirl at the wrist, not the wand itself.”

“Y-yes sir,” Harriet said, blushing as she aimed her wand at the dummy.

Harriet took a breath, twirled her wand three times and flicked before giving the incantation, “ _Incarcerous_!”

Finally, the thin, brown cords shot from Harriet’s wand and looped themselves around and around the dummy. Harriet felt her stomach churn a little as the dummy toppled backwards and rocked side to side, as if struggling. Harriet didn’t know why the idea was so repellent to her.

Deep down, Harriet felt she had to act as though she hated it. What if she looked as though she was having too much fun with the hex, and Professor Moody caught on? Would he tell anyone? Harriet didn’t see why he would, but all she knew in that moment was that she was bordering on the edge of a complete panic attack.

“The devil’s wrong with you tonight, Potter?” Professor Moody asked after Harriet missed the next dummy completely.

“I… I don’t know, sir,” Harriet replied.

Then, she remembered the previous year, when she’d been tied properly for the first time by Sirius. She felt like a bit of a heel, and as though she was throwing Sirius under the bus, but it was the only way that she could see.

“Bad memories, I guess,” Harriet lied.

“Bad memories?” Professor Moody asked, studying her closely.

Harriet nodded. “Last year… got tied up by Sirius… so now it feels—weird—seeing it.”

Professor Moody nodded. “I can see that, Potter, but a great many bad things are going to happen to you before life’s done. Can’t spend your life letting all of them eat at you. Eventually you’ll have to own them. The more you own that darkness inside you, the more powerful you’ll become.”

Harriet nodded, taking a deep breath.

“There’s darkness in all of us, Potter, no sense lying to yourself about it. No good hiding from who you are. Now, again!”

An hour later, Harriet felt as though her wand-arm weighed ten times normal. She was walking up the corridor when someone called her name.

“Oye, Potter!”

Harriet winced and reluctantly turned around. Pansy and Pixie were smirking at her from the end of the corridor.

“What?” Harriet asked, irritably. As discretely as she could, Harriet slipped her hand into her pocket, gripping her wand.

Both Pansy and Pixie continued to smirk.

“Got a message for you,” Pixie called.

“Someone important wants to see you,” Pansy added.

“Well, good for them,” Harriet retorted.

She turned to leave when Pansy called louder. “It concerns _Daaaaaaaaddy_.”

Harriet froze, and Pansy and Pixie’s smirks grew. They knew they’d hit the right nerve.

“What do you want?” Harriet asked, trying and failing to maintain her annoyed tone.

“You’ll have to come see,” Pixie tossed her silver-blonde hair.

“It’s really an offer you shouldn’t refuse,” Pansy said.

“Yeah,” Pixie nodded seriously. “If you want sweet Daddy Daniel to get his precious shop back…”

Harriet kept her sense of alertness up, but slowly she started making her way towards her least favourite girls at Hogwarts. Pansy and Pixie grinned maliciously as Harriet came closer. They stepped aside and gestured to a door.

“You open it,” Harriet said suspiciously, her hand still on her wand.

Harriet was rather pleased to see both Pansy and Pixie let their smirks falter ever so slightly as they glanced down at Harriet’s wand. Pansy hitched her grin back on and opened the door, bowing Harriet in condescendingly.

Harriet snorted and—wand still in hand—entered the room. Nothing could have prepared Harriet for what she saw. Sitting at the teacher’s desk, grinning pleasantly and toothily at Harriet, wearing her banana yellow dress once more, was Rita Skeeter.

“You!” Harriet shouted, and she very nearly drew her wand on Skeeter. “How did you get in here? You’re not allowed in the grounds.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Rita Skeeter said matter-of-factly. “And yet here I am, with a proposition.”

“You drag two of my best friends’ names through the mud and just expect me to listen to you?”

“Why yes, yes I do,” Skeeter smiled wider. “It’s in your best interest, I assure you. And that of your wonderful, loving _daddy_.”

Harriet felt her chest clench. First a terrible lesson with Professor Moody, and now this.

“Please, Harriet dear, have a seat.”

Skeeter gestured to the seat right in front of the desk. Harriet’s legs felt like lead, but slowly she started moving forward. She was being driven forward by fear, and sheer morbid curiosity. Behind her, Harriet heard Pansy and Pixie shut the door.

Harriet sat in the chair, though still, she did not loosen her grip on her wand in the slightest. Rita Skeeter merely continued to smile pleasantly and she set a piece of paper on the table.

“I think you will find this very interesting,” Rita Skeeter said. Harriet thought if Rita Skeeter smiled any wider, the top of her head would pop off.

Harriet reached up with her free hand and pulled the paper closer. She blinked in surprise as she took it in. It was a flier for some sort of event.

 

_HOGSMEADE CHARITY EXTRAVAGANZA!_

_REBUILD OUR CHERISHED HERITAGE!_

_EXQUISITE FOODS!_

_EXCLUSIVE FASHION SHOW OF ALL THE LATEST TRENDS!_

_CELEBRITY GUESTS!_

_DONATIONS AND DOOR PRIZES!_

_ONLY 20 GALLEONS GETS YOU IN THE DOOR!_

_EVENT 17 th JUNE_

_TICKETS FIRST COME FIRST SERVE_

 

Harriet shoved the paper away, feeling sickened.

“Twenty galleons?” she asked in disgust.

“Oh yes,” Rita Skeeter smirked, losing her pleasant nature. “We have to bring the money in you know? Hogsmeade won’t rebuild itself, after all.”

“What does this have to do with Daniel’s shop?” Harriet asked.

“Well, this event is being put on by the fund to rebuild Hogsmeade, after all,” Skeeter explained. “Ergo, they will decide where the money to rebuild goes first. Dear oh dear, it could be a while until they get around to rebuilding good old _Dawn to Dusk_.”

“ _Dusk til Dawn_ ,” Harriet corrected angrily.

“Who cares,” Skeeter said dismissively. “The point is, it would be wonderful if say… Mr Dusk were to donate some designs to the show, wouldn’t it? Surely that would get lots of interest in rebuilding his shop and maybe even house right away, wouldn’t it?”

Harriet felt her face fall. She wasn’t glaring anymore. Try as she might, she felt her worry slowly building in her face. Even worse, Rita Skeeter noticed as well.

“But then… why not just ask Daniel to donate some?”

“Well, my goodness, if it doesn’t seem that Mr Dusk just doesn’t like me very much. It’s the darndest thing. Anyway, I don’t want just Mr Dusk’s designs. They’re nothing without a sweet, charming, young, innocent, brave face to hang them on.”

Harriet felt her chest tighten more. Was Rita Skeeter getting at what Harriet thought she was getting at?

“Plenty of people would come to see the famous Harriet Potter walking the stage. Nothing sells to the public like a sweet face and a tight body in tight clothes. Particularly the young ones; people go ga-ga over forbidden fruit.”

“You’re sick,” Harriet gasped.

“Just realistic,” Skeeter said dismissively. “Now… perhaps I should tell you exactly why this is such a great idea.”

“Fat chance,” Harriet spat.

She felt her rage building once more. She kept imagining herself, pulling her wand and shouting _Confringo!_ She imagined Rita Skeeter being blown into a million pieces like the dummies. She wished Professor Moody had taught her the Cruciatus Curse, she would have Skeeter on her back like the spider, screaming in pain.

“Now, now,” Rita Skeeter continued. “No need for that. After all, we don’t want _this_ going public, now do we?”

Skeeter pulled another slip of parchment from her bag and held it out to Harriet. Trepidation began to overpower Harriet’s anger once more as she took the parchment and read.

 

_HARRIET POTTER DISCOVERS DADDY DANIEL_

Harriet felt her heart do a few flip flops. Now fully terrified, she read on.

 

_Everyone knows the sad tale of Harriet Lily Potter, the darling child born of the tragic love of Lily and James Potter. Two star-crossed lovers who gave their lives sparing their only child from the clutches of You-Know-Who, at the same time condemning her to a life of neglect as the hands of her Muggle aunt and uncle._

_But is she? Recent reports have come to light that all was not as it seemed in the happy Potter home. Evidence that leads to a startling conclusion: Harriet Potter might not in fact be James Potter’s daughter after all._

 

“What?!” Harriet cried. She almost leapt out of her seat but Skeeter’s smirk grew wider.

 

“Oh please, do keep reading, dear,” Skeeter said slyly.

Harriet slowly sat again, and resumed reading.

 

_“Oh yeah, never saw the one without the other between fourth and sixth year,” says Drusella Scroob, a childhood friend of Lily’s. “They were head over heels for each other, finding secret nooks and corridors, holding hands. Everyone thought it was going to be them as who wound up married.”_

Harriet’s heart was pounding in her ears. This couldn’t possibly be real.

 

_Jonathan Brass, an old roommate of Mr Dusk and the late Mr Potter, says: “They was close as any friends at first. Then Daniel and Lily started with all the lovey stuff and just were never the same between them. Suppose they came around things went south between the pair our sixth year, and James finally made his move. But outside that, those two were thick as thieves.”_

Harriet felt her mind racing. Daniel and her mother had dated? Why hadn’t Daniel ever told her before? Didn’t he think it would be important for Harriet to know that?

“Yes, shocking revelation, isn’t it?” Skeeter said, her voice rich with faux-sympathy. “Lucky you’re so strong and brave that you can take such a blow.”

“No… no one will believe this…” Harriet said.

“Oh, won’t they?” Skeeter sneered.

Harriet swallowed and read on.

 

_This leads one to wonder. What if the old flame never went out? What if it should turn out our beloved Miss Potter may not be a Potter after all? Should she be Harriet Dusk instead?_

_Too shocking to believe? Well, it can be exclusively reported that not only might this be true, but Miss Potter herself might be fully aware of this fact. Twice during her time in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Miss Potter has been heard to refer to Mr Dusk as “Daddy.”_

 

Harriet looked up at Skeeter again in shock. Rita Skeeter seemed to know exactly what Harriet had read.

“Yes, I have phenomenal hearing,” Rita Skeeter said before taking a sip of a cup of tea.

“Why…?” Harriet asked, her hands and voice trembling. “Why…?”

“I need big names for this show, Miss Potter,” Rita Skeeter said dismissively. “They’ve already booked Alessa Selene, and she volunteered to do the show for free. But if you were to do the show as well, say with some exclusive interviews, a few pictorials of your dresses, and so on… I can make sure this article never sees the light of day.”

Harriet felt her hands trembling more.

“Besides, I’ll get a nice bonus for booking such a famous name.”

“You’re a monster,” Harriet managed to stutter.

Rita Skeeter didn’t look the slightest bit abashed. “Oh, you can do better than that,” she said waving a dismissive hand. “You’d faint if you heard the worst people have called me. So… what do you say?”

Rita Skeeter slid another piece of parchment towards Harriet. It was some sort of legal document. Harriet read it, trying to make sense of it all. It basically said Harriet agreed to take part in the show, and that Rita Skeeter got exclusive interview and press rights to any future event featuring Harriet.

“Is this it…?” Harriet asked, sceptically.

“Oh yes,” Rita Skeeter replied jovially. “No need for messy legal jargon when the idea is really as straightforward as this. You take part in this show, and I get a monopoly on any press surrounding you. I’m basically your press secretary, and your press, all rolled up in one lovely bundle. Easy-peasy, really.”

Harriet shook her head in disbelief. “I… but…” she looked at the article again, which Rita had snatched back into her clutches as Harriet read the contract. “This isn’t true,” Harriet said pointing at the article. “It can be proven, can’t it?”

Rita Skeeter smirked wider. “Isn’t it true…?”

Harriet swallowed. It had to be fake. It had to be made up. Didn’t it?

“S-so…? What’s… I mean… okay… w-what if he is my fath—”

“Oh poor Aurora Sinistra… becoming like a mother too, isn’t she?” Rita Skeeter said, once more putting on the air of sympathy. “Once the victim of a smooth talking young man who left her with two young daughters… I’m sure she would love to find out she’s fallen for another man who’s done the same thing in the past, wouldn’t she?”

Harriet tried to bring herself to speak, but couldn’t.

“And oh dear… he’s just been reunited with his old friend, Sirius Black… James Potter’s dearest friend… imagine how poor Sirius would take it… I imagine he’d leave Daddy Daniel with quite the black eye, wouldn’t he? Possibly just for starters… and how would old Remus take it?”

Rita tutted, shaking her head. “And really… who would choose to shop anywhere he set up shop? The real father of Harriet Potter who never stood up and spoke out… not even after his dear old friend and former flame were brutally murdered while saving his baby-girl’s life?”

Harriet was trembling all over now. She felt tears in her eyes. Rita Skeeter’s feigned sympathy was once again replaced by a triumphant grin.

“Besides, dear,” Skeeter said, pointing to a line near the bottom of the contract. “Your aunt and uncle already gave their consent.”

“What?!” Harriet gasped, looking down and reading Uncle Vernon’s signature on the line.

“Oh yes, they were remarkably easy to convince. Seems they take quite a liking to stacks of money. Who knew? I imagine they’re on holiday in Majorca at the moment.”

Harriet couldn’t stop her hands shaking. She wanted to tear the contract into shreds, the smallest she could make them. However, that article was sitting there, right on the desk, tormenting her.

“Don’t worry,” Skeeter said. “If that doesn’t convince you, I could always post an article about your godfather’s deviant sexual behaviour in his youth and how he used those talents on two sweet girls of only sixteen and thirteen…”

Harriet was feeling so stressed and awful she almost retched.

“Or how about, ‘Scandal of McIntyre Manor,’ how one of the noblest magical names is about to die-out?”

Harriet stood up, knocking back her chair.

“How did you find out about that?!” Harriet demanded, tears flowing in her eyes now.

She felt violated. She felt naked and utterly alone.

“Oh don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” Rita Skeeter said. “All you need concern yourself with is signing on that little line so all of this goes away, and then stand there on a stage in pretty dresses and smile like a little doll for the crowd. How proud Daddy Daniel will be if tomorrow you tell him you want to take part in this to raise money for his shop? How much you want to help him get back his home so he can marry his sweet love Aurora and raise her dear, sweet daughters?”

Rita Skeeter’s eyes glittered greedily behind her glasses. “Really… I don’t think I’m asking too much. I just don’t like taking risks… so I learned the right buttons to push. I always get my way in the end, Miss Potter. Daddy Daniel gets his shop and home back, you keep your new family, and I make lots of money. Now…”

Skeeter slid the contract closer to Harriet again. “Sign…”

Harriet swallowed. She felt trapped, she felt just like she did the night Aunt Marge caught her binding herself. She slowly sat again, and held out a quivering hand towards the quill Skeeter offered. Harriet studied the contract more.

Daniel’s smiling face came to her mind. She thought of Aurora and the girls. She thought of Sirius and Remus. How could she let this happen to them? She could never let this hurt any of them. It was all on her now.

Harriet closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and signed.


	33. Dilemmas and Dreams

“Alas, sometimes even I must bow and admit that there was one who said it better. None can have said it better than the American president, Theodore Roosevelt: ‘It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming…’ Now, that is not the entire excerpt, but it is the part that counts. For a man who claimed to speak softly, he did tend to go on a little, did he not?”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Hermione sounded almost timid as she called Harriet’s name. Harriet didn’t respond. She didn’t care. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to just stay curled up in bed and never, ever leave.

Yet, Harriet knew she had to get out of bed. It was Monday morning already. She had spent all of Sunday not speaking to anyone. She told her friends she wasn’t feeling well and spent the whole day in bed.

Harriet sat up, throwing off the covers and sliding out of bed. Now shew as up and about she felt distinctly irritable. She didn’t acknowledge Hermione’s presence as she hastily and angrily started to get dressed.

It wasn’t fair, Harriet thought. Why was all of this happening to her? Why was her whole family at risk just so Rita Skeeter could get interviews?

Harriet stopped herself, halfway through putting on her socks. _My family_. She was thinking of Daniel, Aurora and the girls as her family without even trying.

“I… I could tell our teachers you’re still not feeling well… if you want?” Hermione suggested. She still sounded anxious.

Harriet contemplated this. It was a tempting offer. _No_ , Harriet told herself, _you’re already mostly dressed, just go. Get it all over with. It’ll keep people from asking questions._

Harriet finished dressing. She grabbed up her book bag and saw that Hermione had left. She kicked herself internally. If she didn’t keep her act together, they were going to catch on and start asking questions.

Harriet gritted her teeth. If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t entirely Rita Skeeter with whom she was angry. After having a day to stew, Harriet found herself becoming more and more concerned with something that seemed much closer to home for her: why hadn’t Daniel told Harriet about him and her mother?

Harriet’s stomach did a flip-flop and she felt herself almost lose her balance. What if the article was true? What if Daniel really was her father? They did have the same hair colour, but Harriet had seen pictures of James Potter, and seen him in the Mirror of Erised. And James Potter had black hair too, and so did Sirius. So what did her hair colour mean?

Unbidden resentment returned. What if Daniel really _was_ her father? If so, in a horrible way, Rita Skeeter was right. How could he have just abandoned her all these years? Leaving her to live at the Dursleys for a life of torment and neglect.

But what if he didn’t even know? What if he’d never known? It wasn’t much of an excuse, but it at least would explain why the Daniel she knew had never come for her. But still, if he and her mother had dated, something Daniel had never told her, exactly how well did she know him?

No, she couldn’t think like that. Skeeter was a lying, evil, sleazy hack. But was she? She had gone after Hagrid, and said horrible things about him, most of which were untrue. And yet, the fact that Hagrid was half-giant was true. She had also alluded to Scott’s worries about liking boys and Sirius’ tying-up stuff like her.

Harriet shivered. She was about to leave when there was a tiny squeaking from her bed. She turned around and saw DIDS looking up at her. She stared at the little dragon for a few moments. DIDS was just swishing his little tail back and forth, looking up at her expectantly.

Harriet wasn’t sure what made her do it. She walked back over to the bed and held her hand out. DIDS climbed on and at once scampered up her arm to her shoulder. He nestled under her hair and curled up, resting in the back of her collar.

In spite of everything, Harriet gave a soft smile. DIDS gave off a warm, soothing heat as he nestled up against her skin. Harriet took a deep breath, hoisted up her bag, and headed downstairs.

All throughout the day, her friends kept giving her discreet, concerned looks. Harriet did her best to avoid everyone’s eyes. She instead forced her mind to focus on her classes, and the calming presence of DIDS.

Harriet did her best to maintain this mind-set throughout the following week. She felt as though she had turned off her brain, or at least the parts of her brain that could feel. Her legs seemed to work on their own taking her to and from classes. She listened to her teachers’ lectures and took notes, but she didn’t truly register anything they were telling her. All the while, DIDS maintained his little vigil on her neck, hidden away under her hair; his warmth and slow, calm breathing Harriet’s one consolation.

She did not know why she wasn’t telling her friends. Mostly, she did not want to think about it. It was as though Harriet was forcing her mind to pretend that nothing at all had happened. Daniel was not potentially her real father, Sirius was in no danger of being outed as a freak like her, and Scott was in no danger of shaming his family.

Fortunately, Harriet’s friends seemed to be buying her feigned normality. Even better, it was almost the Easter holiday. She’d have an entire week to relax and come to her senses.

Unfortunately, come Friday morning, Harriet’s ability to keep reality locked away in her mind came against its greatest test. They were eating breakfast when the post arrived. Not expecting anything, Harriet was paying no attention when there was a clattering and a small, black bird thudded down onto the table in front of her.

Harriet blinked looking up from her food. The bird was less than a foot tall, with jet black feathers. The black was broken up by a little orange beak with a white tip, and brilliantly bright, sky-blue eyes, and behind each was a thin, sky-blue crest. However, its most striking feature was a small plume of forward curling feathers that stuck up from the top of its beak.

“That’s a crested auklet, that is,” Terry Boot observed knowledgably.

Harriet stared at the little bird with bemusement as it waddled across her plate, a letter attached to one of its webbed feet. It ruffled its feathers and Harriet sniffed. The bird smelled oddly like oranges.

“Aren’t you just precious with your little floofy crest,” Ronnie cooed leaning over to try and pet the little bird’s head.

Harriet smiled in spite of herself. Despite Ronnie’s determinedly tomboy nature, she never failed to go spare over small, fluffy animals.

“Who’s it from?” Scott asked.

Harriet shook her head as she removed the letter from the bird’s leg. To everyone’s surprise, instead of flying off, the little bird waddled across the table again to Kieran. It gave a shrill little twitter and bumped its little head against Kieran’s hand.

“Uh, h-hello,” Kieran said, shifting awkwardly in his chair as he rubbed the back of its head with his pointer finger.

The little bird gave a happy twitter before finally spreading its wings and fluttering off noisily into the air. Kieran kept watching the bird as it flew off.

“That was weird,” Dora observed.

“Y-yeah,” Kieran said evasively. “Anyway,” He trailed off raising his eyebrow at Harriet.

Everyone looked at Harriet. Harriet tightened her lips and studied the letter. There was no return address on the envelope. Slowly, she opened it, pulled out the letter, and read. The first sentence made her gasp. She rose from the table at once.

“I… it’s private,” Harriet said and without further explanation hurried from the Great Hall, so distracted she barely registered DIDS hissing in agitation from under her hair, nor the taunts that Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró called after her.

She headed down the stairs towards the Hufflepuff and Slytherin common rooms, assuming her friends would head towards Gryffindor Tower if they wanted to look for her. She found a bench, sitting down on it, and finally reading the letter.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_This is_ Alessa Selene _. This is really important, so please, you have to pay really close attention to everything I’m saying. Read this letter_ very _carefully._

 

Harriet stared at the name. Alessa Selene was writing to her? Why? Was she finally going to explain what had happened the night of the Yule Ball? She studied Alessa’s name as well. It looked as though it had been written in a different hand than her own.

 

_I’ve just been told you’re also going to be taking part in the Hogsmeade Gala in June. From what I’ve been told, you’re taking part to help out your friend, Daniel Dusk. However, I really, really want to warn you. You do not want to get in this life. Not even the tiniest bit. Kieran’s told me all about you and you deserve better than this._

_This life has cost me everything. I’ve lost my father and my best friend. Whatever you do, after this gala is over, do anything you can to get away from people like this and especially Rita Skeeter._

_Skeeter’s been putting your name out everywhere as taking part in the Gala. She’s up to something, but I don’t know what. You didn’t agree to anything with her, did you? She tried to become my press secretary once when I was younger but Mum paid her off to go away. I doubt you’ll be that lucky, though. You’re already famous and if Skeeter’s already got her fangs in you, good luck getting them out again._

Harriet’s stomach curled up in knots. Alessa’s letter was far from comforting. “Thanks, Alessa,” she muttered. She studied what she had read. So, this had to mean she and Kieran had been writing each other. That’s why Alessa’s bird had acted the way it did towards Kieran.

 

_Mostly, I want to say I’m so sorry for the awful impression I gave at the Yule Ball. Kieran did not try anything funny while we were in the grotto, and he was a perfect gentleman. I was so furious after I saw what Skeeter had written about him. However, I have a tiny confession to make._

_Every measure possible is taken by my agency to keep my real identity private. My face is charmed by our modelling agency. It disguises me from people who might recognize me for real. It’s supposed to help keep me safe from kidnappers and stuff. It’s bullshit, really. It’s really meant to keep anyone from my old life from recognizing me._

Harriet twisted her lips. What did that mean? Why would they want to keep people from Alessa’s old life from recognizing her?

 

 _For crying out loud, I can’t even write my real name without it being turned into_ Alessa Selene _, so I can’t even tell you my real name even if I wanted to. At least, not by trying to write it out like that. I am_ Alessa Selene _. See? Alessa_ Alessa _Alessa_ Alessa _Alessa. I can’t even misspell it. It turns right into Alessa Selene every time. It’s a nightmare._

_Especially since it’s not fool proof. That’s what happened that night at the Ball. As Kieran and I were talking, one of the little fairies in the grotto disabled the charm somehow, and I panicked, not just because it happened, but because Kieran recognized me._

_Regarding the Gala, I tell you this because when we meet there, you will see me without the charm. It’s the one reason I agreed to take part. Because after this Gala, I won’t have to hide anymore. That bitch doesn’t even suspect it. She was too greedy for how much money was being offered to even consider that I would have to have my face charm disabled._

_Now, I’m sorry again for everything that’s happened. I never meant to bring any of you into my troubles. If you have any questions about what’s to come, send your letter to Alessa Selene at Rathlin. Your owl will find me. If not, I’ll do my best to coach you when we meet at the Gala before the event starts._

Harriet furrowed her brow. So Kieran had told her the truth then, Alessa was not who she claimed to be. But who was she really? It couldn’t be that he recognized her as Wendy the Wandless Witch, because that was how she had been introduced. Finally, Harriet read the postscript.

 

_P.S. – Finn will be performing at the Gala, too. Skeeter’s furious about it. She tried to book the Weird Sisters, but Professor Howe beat her to the punch. I’m afraid she might try something against him but Finn doesn’t seem to care. He never does._

Harriet’s stomach clenched once more. Finn would be at the Gala as well? Why hadn’t he told her? Harriet stood up and paced before chastising herself. Of course Finn hadn’t told her, she hadn’t even told him that she would be in it. And why did she care so much? Why couldn’t she just forget about him? She was dating Fred.

Harriet put that from her mind and reread the letter. What had Alessa meant by reading carefully? What was she supposed to be looking for?

“There you are.”

Harriet looked around. Kieran was walking towards her, concern all over his face.

“Oh, h-hey,” Harriet said awkwardly, pocketing the letter.

“So, uh… what did Alessa want?” Kieran asked, shifting awkwardly to his good leg as he reached her.

Harriet sighed and sat, Kieran joining her. Harriet looked around. Once more, Harriet felt trapped. She couldn’t tell Kieran. She couldn’t tell anyone yet.

Harriet put her hand in her pocket, touching the letter. She pulled it out once more and looked at it. She supposed she could tell at least part of the truth.

“I… I umm… there’s going to be a big Gala thing…” she stammered, trying to force the words out “and I agreed to take part in it… to help raise money for Daniel’s shop.”

“Oh, wow,” Kieran said. He smiled, but it quickly faltered. “You don’t seem that thrilled about it…”

“N-no…” Harriet said crossing her arms. “It… I’m doing some, um, fashion show thing… and… I’ll have to be around Rita Skeeter for it…”

Kieran grimaced. “Oh, no…”

“Yeah,” Harriet said, sighing with relief. In spite of how horrible she felt keeping the truth in, she did feel better for saying at least that much. “Yeah,” she repeated. “That’s what Alessa wrote… warning me about Skeeter.”

Kieran snorted. “Bit late, there.”

“Heh, yeah,” Harriet laughed.

“Well, we should get going,” Kieran said. “It’s our favourite subject.”

Harriet nodded. “Good old Potions…”

“Look on the bright side,” Kieran said sarcastically as he pulled Harriet up to her feet.

“What bright side?”

“Well, this might finally be the day either Crabbe or Goyle blow up the whole castle and we’ll never have to deal with Skeeter ever again.”

Harriet doubled over holding her sides. Kieran smiled and put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder as they headed back up towards the Potions’ classroom.

## * * * *

“TORI!”

AJ’s delighted cry filled the common room. Harriet and her friends looked around. Tori had indeed returned.

The Gryffindors all rose and made their way over, faces bright in greeting. Tori looked rather bashful at the warm welcome.

“Thanks, everyone,” Tori said, hugging AJ, who still had not released her, nor looked as though she intended to do so anytime soon.

Her own worries set aside for the moment, Harriet was as happy as the rest to see Tori back. It would make the Gryffindor fourth year girls’ dorm feel a bit more normal again.

“How was the ceremony?” Hermione asked as the girls settled in their room to talk.

“It was nice,” Tori said. Harriet was surprised to see how calm Tori seemed at the question. It hadn’t even been two weeks.

“You seem well,” Basheera said, smiling kindly.

“I… I kind of am. Mostly just kinda forcing the smile on my face. But… the funeral did give me a lot of closure. It was amazing to see that so many people turned up… like I mean even President Shensuken came.”

“Really?” Parvati asked, looking impressed.

“Oh yeah, he sat with my mother and I and held our hands.”

“Wow,” Lavender gasped.

“Yeah, he—uh—he also promised that the next campaign is going to be against North Dakota… he’s going to retake our towns.”

“What!?” AJ exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Tori said smiling a little. “We… like… we might be able to go home…”

Harriet studied AJ’s face. It was difficult to interpret. Harriet had never quite been able to get a bead on AJ’s attitude towards the war. She had been told that AJ’s family came from Texas, which seceded, and that she and her family had only moved to the three towns just before the start of the war. So while she never said anything bad about the Secessionists, she had never seemed that keen on the Unionists, either.

Tori sighed looking around. “I was wondering if Rachel was going to be back yet. I wanted to tell her how her brother, Aaron, was there.”

“He was?” Hermione asked. “Goodness, he does seem to get around, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Tori snorted cynically. “Mom said he’s the army’s new poster-boy. You know, young, handsome, tragic but heroic backstory.”

“You’d think after what he did to Jackson he’d be in big trouble,” Ronnie said.

“Nah,” Tori waved a hand dismissively. “I asked about that **too** but Mom said it’d be terrible for PR. The army punishing the guy who saved a kid’s life and halted an attack that was killing innocent people? He’s like their new… ugh what did Mom say his name was? Whoever it was the Muggles based that G.I. Joe guy on.”

“Well that’s cool,” AJ said.

“Don’t blame them,” Parvati agreed. “Did you see him in that uniform?”

Everyone laughed.

“What was he doing there?” Hermione asked.

“He was one of the pallbearers, and he helped fold the flag up and handed it to Mom before they… you know…”

The group fell quiet as Tori became overly interested in a frayed corner of the rug.

“The President’s really trying to get our home back, though?” AJ pressed.

“Well, you don’t have to sound _too_ eager to leave us…” Parvati said, wounded.

AJ blushed. “Sorry, just… yeah, sorry…”

“Now, now, I’m sure AJ didn’t mean anything by that,” Hermione said trying to sound more cheerful.”

“They had a meteor shower too,” Tori ploughed on. “Full military honours. They laid him to rest in Section 0, it’s this special mausoleum in Arlington National Cemetery. It’s where the Muggles bury their dead from their wars.”

Lavender whistled.

“So… how is the war going otherwise?” Harriet asked. “Like, how likely is it to end soon?”

Tori grimaced. “Not great… we had some big gains last November, Mom said. We took back Idaho and most of Montana. Right now it’s a stale-mate though.”

Parvati hugged AJ’s arm a bit tighter. Harriet thought she knew what was on Parvati’s mind. Despite their being so different, AJ had really bonded the most with Parvati and Lavender. AJ was rough and tumble, and hated wearing ‘girly’ clothes, while Parvati and Lavender constantly raved about the newest hairstyles and fashions in _Witch Weekly_. Yet, somehow their differences in that regard seemed to be what connected them.

Tori cleared her throat and continued. “Apparently there’s been a lot of casualties on the Pacific Front… I think because that’s where most of the labour camps are. We’re trying to get to them. Mom says we have the numbers and the resources, but the Secessionists are fighting dirty. They’re using inferi and dementors and even child soldiers in some places.”

“Inferi?” Harriet asked.

“Child soldiers?” Lavender gasped.

“They’re dead bodies that have been cursed to do a dark wizard’s bidding,” Hermione explained for Harriet.

“Yeah, kids as young as twelve, Mom said,” Tori replied to Lavender.

“So, kids younger than us are fighting,” Parvati whispered, sounding shocked.

“Yeah, it’s because they’re desperate, Mom said. Mom said that normally them being desperate would be a good thing, except for what it’s making them do in their desperation… and the fact that it’s working…”

More silence followed this.

“I just… I can’t even imagine…” Ronnie said, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I’m starting to just think the whole world’s like this,” AJ said. “It’s all just… terrible.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Parvati said hugging AJ’s arm tighter. “Don’t say that.”

“Yeah,” Lavender agreed. “You’ve made our lives better, for sure.”

AJ flushed as red as her Gryffindor bedspread. With that the girls started to get ready for bed. As they did, Harriet noticed Tori was just sitting on the edge of her bed. She was staring at the poster board she had put up of all the pictures of her family. Normally, she would be chatting with Rachel about some gossip or other (with a ninety percent probability that the subject would be Jackson).

Harriet twisted her lips. She thought, then made up her mind, and walked over to sit next to the taller girl.

“Hey,” Harriet whispered.

“Oh, hey,” Tori replied, forcing a smile back onto her face.

“I just… I wanted to say I really am sorry about your dad…” Harriet said, hoping she wasn’t overstepping herself. “I mean… I never even got to know my real dad…”

Tori’s forced smile remained, though she sniffed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Well, you have Mr Dusk,” Tori said, brushing back her hair. “I saw him and Professor Sinistra together making those lovey-dovey faces at each other at New Year’s.”

Tori’s smile now had hints of a teasing smirk behind it. Harriet’s stomach twisted and flopped. Tori might have thought she was bringing up something that would make Harriet happy, but she certainly wasn’t.

“Hey, Tori… can I ask you something?”

“Sure?” Tori’s look transformed to concern in a heartbeat.

“It’s… well… you grew up always having a dad… ugh sorry that sounds like such a horrible thing to say…”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Tori said, now not looking at Harriet. “Go on…”

“Well, I mean… just… my parents died when I was so little… I don’t really have many memories of them. How do you like… I guess I just don’t know what that feeling is. Like… what if… you know? Daniel really was my dad?”

Tori looked back at Harriet again, her expression very bemused. “What? Like, biologically, too?”

“Yeah…”

“Huh…” Tori thought. “Well, except for the hair you don’t look much like him,” she observed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Harriet admitted.

“Well, why would he be though?” Tori asked. “Like… what makes you think so?”

“Just… well… just thinking,” Harriet said. She hugged her chest, rubbing her upper arms. She was starting to regret entering into this conversation.

Tori seemed to understand. “Hey,” Tori said calmly, putting an arm around Harriet’s shoulder.

Harriet’s eyes widened. She had never been all that close with Tori, but the genuine concern she heard in Tori’s voice and felt in Tori’s arm had her completely taken aback.

“I—I can see why you’d want him to really be your dad,” Tori said. “And even if he’s not… he’s just as good as one, isn’t he?”

Harriet slowly nodded.

“Well, what’s the problem,” Tori said, her smile returning. “I mean, looks to me like you’re getting a dad _and_ a mom out of this. That’s a pretty sweet gig if you ask me.”

Harriet shook her head in disbelief. “How can you be so positive after all that?”

Tori shrugged. “I guess I just have to be. If I wasn’t I’d probably be melting down again like I was before.”

Tori stared at the photographs for a moment, her arm still tight around Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet was thinking. Was Tori right? Did it not matter one way or the other if Daniel really was her father? How would she find out? She supposed she could ask Sirius, or Remus, but how could she ask them without raising suspicion, or Daniel knowing?

“Say, Harriet.”

“Yeah?”

“I wanna show you something. I had a hard time reading it the first time but… after I read it more closely again the second time, this really made me think of you.”

Tori bent down and picked up her backpack that she had returned with. She drew out an envelope and handed it to Harriet. Harriet gave Tori a quizzical look but Tori simply smiled and nodded encouraging.

Harriet opened the letter and read.

 

_Dear Tori,_

_If you’re reading this, then I need to first say that I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be with you anymore, I’m sorry for the terrible things we grown-ups have done to the world, I’m sorry for it all, baby. It’s not fair to you, but you need to know that I did it for us, for you, your mom, and for our country. There’s some things you need to understand, before I go._

 

Harriet gasped and held the letter back out to Tori.

“Oh Tori,” Harriet said shaking her head vigorously. “No I can’t read this.”

“Harriet, please,” Tori said pushing the letter back. “I want you to read it. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”

Harriet bit her lip, and began reading the letter again.

 

_Dear Tori,_

_If you’re reading this, then I need to first say that I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be with you anymore, I’m sorry for the terrible things we grown-ups have done to the world, I’m sorry for it all, baby. It’s not fair to you, but you need to know that I did it for us, for you, your mom, and for our country. There’s some things you need to understand, before I go._

_I never told you this before, but Grandpa Bill and Grandma Audrey weren’t your biological grandparents. They adopted me when I was ten years old, from a very bad home. They loved me, like I’d never been loved before, and taught me what I needed to know about the world._

_You know how your grandma was Muggle-born? Well, she had this collection of film reels her daddy passed to her when he died, classic Muggle Hollywood stuff. When I was eleven, she showed me “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”, and right afterwards, I knew exactly who I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be like my new mom and dad, and I wanted to be like Mr. Smith. The movie’s all about how he gets roped into being a senator, so he figures while he’s there, he’ll open up a summer camp for poor kids, help them get off the streets, and try to make the country a freer place, by filling it with better folks. That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to help people, especially poor kids like I was, because I believed in what that movie and my parents taught me; that sometimes that’s all it takes to make the world better; even if you’re the only one doing anything; even if the world doesn’t care that you’re doing it. As long as you can make people’s lives better, it can all be worth it._

_So I joined the Progressive Club at my high school, campaigned for candidates, volunteered at foster centres, and when I was old enough, got elected to the city council at Rollen. Around that time, you were born._

_I’ll never forget it, baby. I was sitting in the waiting room at the med centre in town, your grandpa and grandma hugging me from both sides, while I was sweating bullets. Then, just as the sun was rising, the nurse called me in to see you. Oh God, Tori. I swear to heaven, your mom and you were glowing. There you were, brand new and tiny, wrapped up in a little pink blanket, your mom looking tired, but still serene and perfect._

_I remember taking a seat right next to the bed, and the nurse putting you in my arms, no bigger than a loaf of bread. When you opened up those sleepy little blue eyes (they were blue until you were about eight months, then they turned hazel), and they met mine, it was love at first sight. I felt complete, for the first time in my life. I had contributed something indescribably beautiful to this world. From that day to this day, I’ve never wanted anything more than for you to be happy, to watch you grow into the woman you were meant to be. I have to believe I’ve succeeded in getting you there, even if I won’t be there to see it happen._

_I know you think of me as a hero for what I did back home, along with half the country. But the truth is I’m just a man. I did what I did because I was the only authority there, and my family was in danger, along with all my friends and neighbours. We couldn’t fight, so I took who I could, and ran. Anyone would have done what I did. That’s why I need you to know what I mean when I say: don’t try to be like me. Don’t do what I did. If there’s one thing this war has taught me, it’s that the world doesn’t need more heroes. The world needs more people who are nice, and loving, and kind. That’s what I’m most proud of about myself, and it’s what I’m most proud of about you._

_From now on, I need you to be strong, to live like the woman you’d most want to be around; the kind of person you want there to be more of in the world. I pray to God that your mom is still alive as you read this, and if she is, then keep her close; keep her in your life as long as you can. You’re all she’s got now. But if, God forbid, something has happened to her too, or ever does happen to her after, then still know that you are not alone. You have chosen a beautiful, kind, loving family for yourself at Hogwarts, and they will always be there for you._

_Though you can’t see me, I will always be there too, and I will always your father. We will always be a part of each other, both in our blood, and in everything I’ve ever taught you, and you me. I hope one day, somehow, we’ll see each other again, but just in case not, make it your mission to live this life as fully as you can. Keep an open mind, question everything, and love freely. Above all, know that I always loved you, and in whatever form or place my soul is resting now, know that I still love you even now, and I couldn’t be more proud._

_Love you, now and always,_

_Daddy_

 

Harriet stared at the letter for a moment after reading.

“Sorry,” Tori said awkwardly. “I guess just after I read it, it really made me think of you. How you’re always so nice, and you do things because they have to be done, not to make a name for yourself.”

Harriet sniffed back a tear.

“I think about what Daddy did, and I know it’s what you would have done too.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said, not knowing what else to say.

Tori took back the letter, putting it delicately back in her bag. Harriet wasn’t feeling very heroic at the moment. She was thinking about the night Rita Skeeter had blackmailed her. She felt like a coward. The only thing she knew for sure was in that moment, instead of saving people, all she wanted to do was punch Rita Skeeter right in her ugly gold teeth.

## * * * *

“ _Incendio_!”

Rita Skeeter’s face instantly went up in flames. Harriet imagined her screaming and writhing in pain as the flames consumed her.

“Excellent, Potter, excellent! I think that’s enough of the practical stuff for tonight.”

Harriet grimaced. She rather disagreed.

“Incendio is a very useful charm for an Auror,” Professor Moody said, sitting behind his desk and gesturing for Harriet to take her usual seat. “I’m damned impressed you thought of it.”

“Well…” Harriet said awkwardly, scuffing her feet under the chair.

“Oh, I see, eh?” Professor Moody chuckled darkly, checking his watch before taking a swig from his hip-flask. “Letting off some steam eh? Cheeky one, you are.”

“Maybe a little,” Harriet admitted. “I’ve just been… off since all those articles by Skeeter came out about Hagrid and my friend Kieran,” she lied.

“Ahhh yes,” Professor Moody nodded, his face turning sour. “Yes, I know lots of people who’d like to put Rita Skeeter to the flame, that’s for sure.”

“How can someone be like that?” Harriet asked, her temper flaring. Her hands gripped the chair arms tightly, her knuckles going white. “How can they just destroy other people’s lives without any shame or anything?!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Professor Moody said, raising his hands. “Calm yourself, Potter. If you lose your head that easily in private you can lose it just as easily in a duel. Anger is a powerful weapon but it can be used against you. Careful what you let your enemies know about you, Potter. They can use it to rile you up, to get you to act rashly and that’s when you get careless.”

“I—” Harriet swallowed and released her grip on the chair arms. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, old Mad-eye doesn’t blame you for hating Rita Skeeter.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh yes you do, but that’s not the point,” Professor Moody interrupted her. “I don’t blame you for it, but you’re not alone. Compared to what else is out there, Rita Skeeter’s just an annoying gnat. She makes life seem miserable but in the end she’s harmless.”

“Harmless?” Harriet asked. “She ruins people’s lives.”

“Was Hagrid fired?” Professor Moody asked. “And your mate, Kieran. Had to have his hands in bandages for a day but on the whole, he seems pretty chuffed with the letters he’s getting now, doesn’t he?”

Harriet slowly nodded.

“That’s because they had a support base… people to care for them and help them along. Not everyone is so lucky. Take that new Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Sutler.”

“What about him?”

“Oh I remember not so long ago, be probably a bit after you were born, summer of ’81, Rita Skeeter tore into him with everything she had. Totally disgraced him. Every word of it a lie apparently, but no one cared. Everyone was anxious for a scandal that took their minds off of the Dark Lord. Sutler basically fell off the face of the earth after that, ran off into the jungle and never looked back. Can’t imagine what he’s up to now.” Professor Moody mused, his magical eye spinning in the direction of Professor Dumbledore’s office as he rubbed his scowling face. “Damn shame it was. Used to enjoy listening to his radio program, when…”

Professor Moody cleared his throat. “The point is, Potter, you’re a powerful, inspirational figure. That’s a sword that cuts both ways. On the one hand, it means you’ll attract the attention of vermin like Skeeter. On the other, it means you inspire devotion in people. You’ll be powerful, someday, Potter. Very powerful. I just know it.”

Harriet tried to make sense of what Professor Moody was saying. She knew she needed to talk to Professor Sutler now too. Maybe he would have some advice then on how to deal with Rita Skeeter. At least as far as how to run away from her.

“So, now you mind telling me what’s really been eating at you?” Professor Moody asked.

Harriet jumped. She’d been so distracted she’d actually forgotten that she was still in Professor Moody’s office.

“There, now you can’t deny it,” Professor Moody chuckled. “It can’t all be Rita Skeeter, can it? Last I checked she hasn’t written anything about you for a while.”

“I… well…” Harriet grimaced. How many times was she going to be pressed into telling people about Skeeter’s threat without telling them before this was all over?

“Well you see… I’ve just been thinking a lot about Daniel…”

“Ah yes,” Professor Moody chuckled. “You know he’s given Dumbledore quite a few earfuls since you two finally met?”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” Professor Moody nodded impressively. “The very first one I was told happened just after you got banned from Hogsmeade last year. Carrying on about how you’d just find out how to get there anyway, and it was better to let you come under controlled circumstances rather than on your own totally unsupervised…” Professor Moody’s real eye twinkled. “And from what I hear, he was right.”

Harriet’s lips tightened uncomfortably.

“So, what about the ol’ rascal?” Professor Moody asked.

“Well, I guess… I guess lately I’ve just been wondering if he might be my real father.”

“Ah,” Professor Moody nodded, rubbing his chin. “That is a sticky one, isn’t it?”

“Sir?”

“Well, I suppose one could see a resemblance,” Professor Moody agreed. “In spirit for sure, though maybe not so much in looks. No, you look too much like James if you ask me. Got his nose, for sure, and his scrawny legs.”

Professor Moody was studying Harriet’s face very carefully. It was at once an uncomfortable feeling, and yet Harriet felt as though more weight was being taken off of her shoulders.

Almost elated, Harriet big Professor Moody goodnight and returned at once to Gryffindor Tower. Professor Moody had said she didn’t look anything like Daniel. Daniel wasn’t her real father. That was something at least. Skeeter’s article could still do damage, but Harriet could at least be sure that the article was a lie.

That night, as Harriet lay in bed, softly petting DIDS scaly back, as he dozed on her pillow, Harriet finally fell asleep with a smile.

## * * * *

Harriet was floating. She loved the feeling. She imagined it was how a leaf would feel, as it floated on the surface of a pond. She stretched out her arms and legs, revelling in the freedom.

Below her, she heard the sound of someone knocking on a door.

“Enter,” said a high, cold voice that instantly paralyzed Harriet with fear.

It was the voice of Lord Voldemort. She opened her eyes. There was a ceiling above her. She could see the flickering light of a fireplace dancing on the ceiling above her and was aware of its soft crackling sound. She dared not move, somehow sure that if she remained still, there would be no way that Voldemort would notice her floating around the ceiling.

The door opened. “He’s here, my lord,” came the quivering voice of Wormtail.

“Of course he is, Wormtail. This had better be important, Crouch… you are risking a great deal coming here…”

Harriet gasped. In shock, she rolled over to look upon the room. She did not recognize it. Nor did she recognize the man standing with Wormtail. Lord Voldemort had called him ‘Crouch,’ yet he did not look at all like Mr Crouch. He was tall and thin, and his skin was almost deathly pale. His face was gaunt, and reminded Harriet a little of Sirius’ face, although he was clean shaven.

“It is, my lord,” the man said.

His voice was raspy, as if unaccustomed to speaking properly. Harriet listened as the new man spoke.

“I apologize, my lord, for coming in person, but with the attack on the town, most of the post in and out of the school is being searched. This is too important to risk in a letter.”

“Very well,” Lord Voldemort sighed. “Proceed.”

“The girl is learning quickly; remarkably, even,” the man continued, coughing and clearing his throat and muttering under his breath. “Damned Poly—”

“Continue.”

“Yes, my lord. She has learned a great deal; many powerful spells beyond her age. She’s making it through the trials—”

“Is your hand remaining undetected?”

“Yes, my lord,” the man laughed, and his grin became almost gleeful. “I barely have to do anything. Potter has managed to surround herself with a pretty convenient following who do their best to nudge her along with or without my help.”

“Excellent,” Lord Voldemort said. “And what about this was so important you needed to risk exposure?”

“My lord," the man went on. “It is because of that… that I… I want to ask you to reconsider your plan.”

There was deathly silence. Harriet felt as though even the crackling of the fire had stopped as she watched.

“Reconsider my plans…?” Lord Voldemort asked, his voice no more than a hiss.

“Yes, my lor—”

“Have you gone soft on me, Crouch?” Lord Voldemort hissed.

“No, my lord,” Crouch said putting his hand to his chest and bowing once more. “I merely see an opportunity.”

“Opportunity?” Lord Voldemort spat, his voice rich with condescension. “You realize, Crouch, that it is because of this retched girl that I am in this condition in the first place! She has spent too long under the thumb of that damn fool, Dumbledore! I attempted to appeal to her senses of vanity before, to no avail! He’s filled her head with too much nonsense about love and honour. That is not a risk I am going to take. I will use the girl and she will die and it will be done with. That is the end of discussion.”

“Please, my lord!” Crouch insisted. “Please, think! You rushed off to kill the girl so hastily before, and look what happened!”

Silence again. Harriet could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Crouch spoke again. “She could be a great symbol; an asset worth far more alive than dead. She has talent, power, and determination. What’s more, she can be manipulated.”

“Is that so…?” Lord Voldemort asked. He did not sound convinced. “You did say she is susceptible to the Imperius Curse?”

“Yes, my lord. I have seen it. But her one weakness is her friends, and we can use them. Furthermore, I’m sure she was quite young and idealistic before, but now… she is getting a proper sense of nuance. She can be turned, I know it, my lord. I have spent many weeks with her now.”

Lord Voldemort mulled this over for what felt like ages. Harriet felt as though she had frozen, as though she was neither breathing nor her heart beating.

“That… will merit some thought…” Lord Voldemort conceded.

“That is all I ask, my lord,” Crouch said. “Consider, my lord—please—how popular the girl has become. Her death or disappearance could make her a martyr… people are devoted to her. They risk life and limb for her.”

“Yes…” Lord Voldemort mused.

“That is not all, my lord…”

“No?”

“No. I told you about the attack on Hogsmeade?”

“Yes,” Lord Voldemort snarled impatiently.

He began coughing and spluttering. Wormtail hurried over to the chair where Lord Voldemort’s voice was emanating from. He poured a glass to brim, of a dark, steaming substance. He grimaced, whether from the smell of the substance, or being close to Lord Voldemort, Harriet couldn’t tell. The coughing stopped, replaced by a horrid, spluttering, slurping. Lord Voldemort gasped and the slurping stopped.

“Get on with it.” Voldemort managed to speak once more.

“Yes, my lord,” Crouch said. “I… I think we can use this Kinney.”

“He has proved inadvertently useful.”

“Yes… I think we must make an attempt to reach out to him.”

“Kinney does not share our ideals.”

“No, my lord, Kinney’s ideal is money.”

“Hmmm…” Lord Voldemort mused. “Yes… should Lucius return, that should not be a problem.”

From where he stood, Harriet was sure neither Lord Voldemort nor Wormtail saw the look that swept over Crouch’s face. At once, Crouch’s eyes began burning. His lips peeled back into a snarl. His hands curled into fists, his knuckles turning white.

“You… you intend to… to welcome him back, then?”

“He does still have his old mask; you said…?”

“But he fled! He fled when I—”

“Yes, he fled,” Lord Voldemort snarled, before coughing again. “Of course he did. My mark was fired into the sky when I had not yet summoned them.”

Crouch’s nostrils were still flared, and his knuckles were still white. He took two slow breaths and rose to his feet.

“I… yes… I understand, my lord… that is… that is most wise…”

“It is. Is that all?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good, then return to your post. And do not come to me again unless it is a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Yes, my lord…” The man called Crouch turned and left the room straightaway.

“A-are you really going to consider his ideas, m-my lord?” Wormtail asked.

“Of course I am, Wormtail,” Lord Voldemort snapped.

“But… but before—”

“Crouch is my most faithful servant, Wormtail. Of all of my _faithful_ servants, he was one of only a handful who sought me out. Such a servant will never betray me. Now, take me to bed, Wormtail, and go feed our host. It would not do for him to die before he’s lost his usefulness.”

Wormtail grimaced. He reached down and slowly scooped up a tiny form from the chair.

Harriet’s stomach lurched. At once, a vile taste and substance filled her mouth and she flung herself out of bed, heaving. She heard the horrid sound of her sick splattering on the floor, the experience so sickening that she gasped and heaved again.

The lights in the room came on. Harriet sank back onto her bed, clutching her stomach. She heard indistinct voices.

“God, it’s everywhere,” AJ declared.

“Harriet, are you okay? Harriet?” she heard Hermione ask, barely registering.

“We should get her to the hospital wing,” Ronnie said, nearby. She sounded as though she was going to be sick herself.

“Yes, at once,” Basheera agreed.

Harriet felt shoulders slide under her arms and lift her to her feet. She was still in a daze as she was half-carried out of the room and down the stairs.

“Vo’demo…” Harriet mumbled.

“Don’t talk,” Hermione soothed.

“Vo’de…” Harriet mumbled again. _Voldemort_ , she thought, _why am I thinking about Voldemort? What happened? What’s going on?_

“Ah, vomiting I see. Follow me. This bed please, girls.”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” Basheera replied.

Harriet felt the two girls stand her up as best they could. She wobbled, but eventually they got her changed into a new nightdress and into the bed. Harriet groaned. Despite having just vomited, it was not her stomach that was bothering her. It was her scar. It was prickling, and Harriet’s head was swimming.

“How are you feeling, Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked, shining a light in Harriet’s eyes.

“Gumma frow-up,” Harriet grumbled.

“Here you are,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Harriet grunted as a bucket was set against her stomach. She sat up and at once hurled into the bucket. Harriet fell back against the bed, groaning with relief. She was finally starting to feel like herself again.

“Well, I’m not detecting any illness, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, checking her wand, the tip of which was giving off a series of red blinks. “However, your heart-rate and your blood pressure are dangerously high. You’ve been under an incredible amount of stress lately, Potter. Putting a fourteen-year-old in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I ask you…”

Harriet grimaced. Her mouth tasted awful, and she felt like she’d been run over by a lorry.

“Drink this, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said, putting a glass to Harriet’s lips.

“Ugh, no,” Harriet protested feebly. She was in no hurry to put anything in her stomach.

“It’s a potion for dreamless sleep, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey insisted. “It will give you proper rest, and sleep, so that you can get that stress and your blood pressure down.”

Harriet gave off a low moan and sighed. She drank, managing to choke down the potion. In an instant, her eyelids felt heavy. She couldn’t keep them open. Her head sank back on the pillow, the world spun once more, and turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my bff SBishoptheBard for the letter. Also, if you work out the riddle, keep it a secret! Let others have their fun too :)


	34. A Few Little Talks

“Another piece of wisdom I have found useful is: ‘There is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you, help you.’ I’m not sure who said this, it feels as though it is something I might have said once, long ago, in another lifetime…”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet groaned. The bright light hit her and she winced, clamping her hands down over her eyes. She tried to remember what had happened. Her head felt like it was full of mush. Everything was hazy. She’d had a bad dream, hadn’t she? But what was it about?

“Good afternoon, Sunshine.”

Harriet squinted. There was a dark figure sitting next to her bed. She couldn’t focus. Her forehead felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

“Seems like this might be becoming a pattern,” the figure said.

At once, relief washed over Harriet as she recognized the voice. “Sirius!” Harriet exclaimed, feeling her worries melting away.

“The one and only,” Sirius chuckled.

Harriet’s smile faltered and she looked around for other figures. Sirius was the only one.

“Where’s… where’s Daniel…?” she asked.

“Having a word with the Headmaster,” Sirius said. He didn’t sound so cheerful, now. Harriet squinted, trying to see him clearly, but it made her forehead swim again and she stopped.

“Here; your glasses,” Sirius said, placing them in Harriet’s hands.

Harriet put her glasses on and the world came back into focus. By the sun, it was sometime in the afternoon. The Hospital Wing seemed to be empty except for them.

“Feeling any better?” Sirius asked.

“Think so,” Harriet said groggily. “What time is it?”

“Oh, a little past two,” Sirius said, checking his watch.

Harriet rubbed her forehead. Her scar was no longer tingling, and her nausea was gone. However, she was having a difficult time remembering why exactly she’d become sick in the first place. She had some sort of dream, she thought.

“So, a bit stressed out, are we?” Sirius said, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at her.

“Heh, yeah, understatement,” Harriet snorted.

“Ah, James’ good old smart-arsery,” Sirius laughed.

At once, Harriet’s nausea returned. She groaned clutching her stomach lying back on the bed.

“Wow,” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “That was not the reaction I expected…”

Harriet stared at the ceiling. Her mind was filled entirely with Rita Skeeter and her accusations and the article hanging over her head. The article that was threatening to destroy everything in her life.

“Sirius…” Harriet muttered, thinking hard. How could she tell Sirius? She couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet, anyway. But who else could really tell her but Sirius? “I… I have a question.”

“What is it, kiddo?” Sirius asked, leaning closer.

“I have to ask this fast… before Daniel gets back.”

Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I—I have something… I have to ask you and it’s really important…”

Sirius kept studying her face with concern. Harriet thought hard. How should she word this? She couldn’t give anything away, and yet, Harriet had to know. She just had to know.

“Harriet,” Sirius insisted.

Harriet took a breath. “Sirius? Do you? Is there a chance that… maybe… Daniel is…?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes for a moment when suddenly they snapped wide open. “Oh… oh, Harriet…” Sirius said, a soft smile coming to his face. He reached up and gently ran a hand through Harriet’s hair. “I—I can understand why you’d be hoping that.”

Harriet’s stomach clenched. No, she wasn’t hoping that. Or was she? Wait, did Sirius know what she was hoping?

“H-hoping what…?

Sirius sighed. “No… there’s no way Daniel could be your father.”

Harriet blinked looking back at him.

“He does love you like a daughter… but no.”

“I… h-how can you know…?”

Sirius kept stroking Harriet’s hair gently. “Well… I knew your mother and father, for one… and Daniel…”

“But… but my mother and Daniel…”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows again. “Who told you about that?”

Harriet blanched. “I… I uh… just… heard rumours…”

Sirius’ expression turned suspicious. After a few moments, he seemed to decide that she wasn’t going to elaborate and proceeded.

“Yes… once upon a time, Daniel and your mother dated,” Sirius confirmed.

Harriet’s heart sank.

“They were kids,” Sirius said shrugging his shoulders. “And they were both annoyed with your father.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. Sirius chuckled. “James… James could be a bit of an arse… more than that if I’m being honest. When we first arrived at Hogwarts, your mother was friends with Sniv—Professor Snape. James fancied Lily from almost the moment he saw her—granted lots of boys did—so of course… he resented her friendship with Snape.”

Harriet clutched the covers of her bed, her breathing shallow.

“James and Snape never missed a chance to curse or hex each other… but with me in the mix… it was a bit one sided. So… come fourth year, Daniel got a bit fed up with us. He and Lily started hanging out and things sort of blossomed from there. But it didn’t last. Relationships at your age hardly ever do.”

Harriet tightened her lips as Fred’s face floated across her mind. _Thanks_ , Harriet thought, _now I’m worrying about that too_.

“Come sixth year, James was starting to mature. We all were. He stopped caring so much about impressing people. Lily and Daniel more or less decided they just weren’t right for each other, and that was that. Daniel wanted to be an Auror after Hogwarts, and Lily wanted to start a family. Daniel had no intentions of settling down, and it was what Lily wanted the most. It was just a bridge the two couldn’t cross together, so they went their separate ways.”

“And, you all became friends again?” Harriet asked.

“Oh yeah,” Sirius replied. “Almost at once. We missed the old goodie-two-shoes. Well, James was rather cool towards him for a while but come seventh year, it was as if nothing had happened at all.”

In spite of herself, Harriet smiled. “So… there was never anything between Daniel and my mum again?”

“Nope.”

“But…” Harriet trailed off again, thinking hard. “But like… what about… that Hallowe’en…?”

Sirius gave Harriet a bemused look. “Hallowe’en?”

“Y-yeah… the Hallowe’en before I was born…”

Sirius’ eyebrows vanished in his shaggy black hair. “The devil are you talking about? How did you hear about that?”

Harriet grimaced. “I… I overheard you and Daniel and Remus talking about it… the night you were cleared?”

It was Sirius’ turn to blush now. “Oh… oh we did, eh?” Sirius rubbed the back of his head, awkwardly. “I have to be perfectly honest, there is a lot about that night I don’t remember.”

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “I was listening on the stairs while you three were talking…”

“Ah,” Sirius chuckled. “Daniel said you have a habit of that.”

Harriet went scarlet.

“No… see that night, Daniel was on leave. He’d been on assignment with the Auror office. He only had one night off: that Hallowe’en. He showed up that morning; he, Remus, Peter and I went out to buy costumes, and we promptly set about revelling. Your mother and father were supposed to meet us, but they didn’t show.”

“And when they didn’t…”

“We went looking for them,” Sirius nodded. “And… yeah we found them… presumably in the process of making you.”

Harriet blushed brighter.

“Daniel had to leave again on assignment the next day,” Sirius continued. “Off to Finland or somewhere on an exchange program between Auror offices. Remus and I saw him off. We hadn’t seen him for a month before he arrived, and we didn’t see him again for another three months after he left. It couldn’t possibly have been him.”

Harriet felt as though she had lost a thousand pounds of weight off her shoulders. She slid out of the bed and hugged Sirius tight around the neck. Sirius chuckled and hugged her back.

“Oh, Harriet…” Sirius said, rocking her gently. “It’s okay… your mother and father loved each other, and they loved you. And Daniel—he loves you too. So you know—in a way—if you want to think about it like that, I guess you could consider Daniel your father.”

Harriet froze, then slowly leaned back to look at him. Sirius was continuing to smile calmly down at her. He brushed her hair from her eyes, kindly. His eyes twinkled a little.

“Yeah, Daniel told me. About both times.”

Harriet looked away, flushing furiously. “Oh, he did?”

Sirius chuckled. “Yeah, he did—ah, speak of the Daniel.”

Harriet looked around. Daniel was walking towards her with Remus.

“Hey, there she is,” Daniel said.

“H-hi,” Harriet stammered softly, looking up at him.

Daniel kept smiling as he and Remus reached them. Harriet studied Daniel’s face. Daniel’s smile did not extend to his eyes.

“Well; got a bit of a surprise,” Daniel said, rubbing his hands together.

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

Daniel smiled more. “Well, I just pulled some strings and Professor Dumbledore agrees that you could use a break. Since it’s Easter holiday, you’re going to come stay with us.”

At once, Harriet’s heart jolted up into her throat. “R-really?”

“Yes, indeed,” Remus smiled.

“But where are you living, if Hogsmeade was destroyed?”

“Shrieking Shack,” Sirius replied. “It’s been cleaned up a great deal.”

Harriet looked from face to face. She couldn’t help it. She’d smiled so rarely over the past few weeks that her cheeks were already hurting as she beamed and leapt up into Daniel’s arms. Every bit of resentment she’d felt for him washed away at once. No, she knew Daniel. The Daniel she knew would never have abandoned her, or fooled around with her mother behind James’ back. And he was the same Daniel that Sirius knew. As Harriet hugged him, she only knew one thing: she had to find a way to get Rita Skeeter for good.

## * * * *

Harriet looked around with unrepentant glee as they crossed the threshold of the Shrieking Shack. Harriet’s jaw fell open. The Shack had been completely transformed. The floors were swept. The ceiling was free of cobwebs, the brass of the wall-mounted candle-holders glinted in the mid-afternoon sunlight from the open door. The walls looked as though they’d been freshly painted in a warm, welcoming forest green that matched the dark, hardwood floors.

They led Harriet down the small entrance hall and into the sitting room. The furniture looked as though it were brand new.

Daniel smiled down at her. “So, what do you think?” He asked spreading his arms wide. “Good as new?”

“It looks amazing,” Harriet said, taking in the repaired railing of the staircase. Harriet’s eyes followed the railing up and she froze for a moment.

Her eyes had fallen upon the door to the room where Sirius had tied up her and Erica back at the end of the previous school year. Harriet felt her heart racing. She remembered too well the sensation of the tight bonds wrapping around and around her, rising sensation of not just helplessness, but excitement.

“You’ll be sleeping in my room,” Sirius said.

“Where will you sleep?” Harriet asked, coming to her senses and looking round at him.

“Down here on one of the couches,” Sirius said, patting one.

“A-are you sure?” Harriet asked.

“Positive,” Sirius smiled. “I survived for years in Azkaban, plus months on the run sleeping in caves and on the hard, muddy ground. I think I can survive a week on a couch.”

Harriet nodded, smiling again.

“Particularly an original Lupin,” Daniel grinned, patting Remus’ shoulder.

“You made the new furniture?” Harriet asked.

Remus shrugged. “Yes, I did. I’ve been working on them for almost a year now.”

“That’s what you were working on in the shop?” Harriet inquired.

“Yes,” Remus said, awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels.

“Well, let’s get you up to your room,” Sirius said, gesturing to the staircase.

“Okay,” Harriet agreed, following him. “So—um—which one’s mine?”

“Heh, well,” Sirius muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ll remember it.”

 _Of course…_ Harriet thought, grimly. She swallowed as Sirius opened the newly repainted door. Harriet followed him inside. The room, much like the rest of the house, had been completely transformed. The bed inside had been completely restored, with brand new comforter and soft, fluffy pillows. The windows were no longer boarded up, the sun shining in warming the room.

And yet, Harriet couldn’t see any of it. At least not comprehend it. Instead, her eyes were staring at the bed, before drifting slowly to the chair behind the desk.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll just leave you to settle in, then,” Sirius said, stiffly.

He cleared his throat before backing out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harriet didn’t say anything as she watched him leave. She stared at the closed door for a moment before her eyes swivelled back to the bed. Erica had been tied up right there. Tied up for real. Right in front of her.

Harriet’s eyes now slowly drifted over to the chair. Her heart started to pound as she looked at it. Harriet herself had been tied right there. Properly. For the first time ever; tight and inescapable.

Her heart raced faster. She wanted to move closer to the chair, but instead all she could do was cross over to the bed and slowly sink onto it. She took her eyes off of the chair and looked to the door instead. Sirius must have remembered as well, that had to be why he was acting so strangely.

Harriet took a calming breath, looking around the room again. This trip was supposed to calm her nerves, yet she did not feel particularly calm right now.

 _Give it a chance_ , the voice in her head said.

 _How can I?_ another voice responded. _This room is a testament to what’s wrong with me…_

_Freak!_

Harriet sighed. She put her hand up to her neck. DIDS slid out into her hand. He still looked half asleep. She set him down on the pillow and he rolled over onto his back, his scaly, rotund belly raised skyward.

“Little lazy bones…” Harriet said, rubbing his belly with her fingertip. DIDS didn’t even twitch. He was already sound asleep. Harriet jumped as there was a knock on the door.

“I-it’s open,” Harriet said.

The door opened and Daniel’s smiling face peered around it at her. “We’ll be having a late lunch soon,” Daniel declared, grinning wider. “Be ready in about ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Harriet replied, finally smiling in response. She rose and crossed the room to Daniel, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” Harriet said, resting her head against his chest.

“Well of course,” Daniel chuckled, hugging her back. “We all left the moment we got Dumbledore’s patronus.”

“His patronus?” she asked.

“Yeah, he sent it right away last night; moment he found out you were in the hospital wing.” Daniel explained. “Said you’d had an anxiety attack and you should come stay with us for the week. By the time we got there you were already asleep, so we let you rest.”

Harriet hugged Daniel tighter. “Well, I’m still glad you did,” she said.

Daniel gently stroked her hair. “Of course, Harriet… always.”

Harriet’s cheeks were hurting again from how hard she was smiling.

“Come on,” Daniel said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get some food.”

## * * * *

_Lightning and thunder crackled outside the window of the old manor house. The room was dark and dank. The window had several broken panes of glass, the burgundy curtains were ragged and dusty. The wallpaper was so faded the colour was no longer clear in the dark room. Harriet grunted and struggled defiantly._

_“You’re never going to get away with this,” she declared, grunting against the restraints._

_“Oh, won’t I, Miss Harriet Drew, intrepid and plucky granddaughter of famed sleuth, Nancy Drew?” the mysterious, muffled voice replied._

_Harriet glared back over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the mysterious stranger very well as he knelt behind her, finishing the knot tying off the tight band of ropes that wound around her chest, pinning her down to the chair. Her wrists were already tightly tied behind her back._

_“Never,” Harriet retorted. “That deed belongs to the Weasley family! You’ll never get away with stealing their secret inheritance!”_

_“Oh, but I will!” the mysterious voice retorted._

_Somehow, Harriet could hear the smirk on his lips as he started to tie another band of ropes around her waist. He gave it a tight tug and Harriet gasped._

_“Sorry!” the mysterious boy said, suddenly sounding worried. “Too tight?”_

_“No, you’re doing perfect,” Harriet comforted him, smiling over her shoulder at him again._

_The boy was wearing a mask, but somehow, Harriet could see his smile behind the mask as he exhaled in relief and finished tying._

_“No escape for you, Miss Drew,” the boy said, returning to character “you’re going to be stuck here until I release you… and you’re not getting out until well after I succeed in putting this deed in my name, ensuring the Weasleys remain in squalor forever!”_

_“You fiend!” Harriet declared, wriggling more in the tight bonds._

_At once, her binder’s strong, large hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Harriet gasped, only able to make muffled sounds into his hand. At least, she should have been trying to. Instead, she closed her eyes in appreciation of the sensation and gave off a tiny moan._

_“Now who’s breaking character?” the boy whispered in her ear._

_“Ymou?” Harriet giggled._

_“Oh, is that right?” the boy sneered._

_“Yemf?”_

_“In that case…”_

_The boy began tickling her side through her sweater. Harriet squealed. She cried out with laughter into his hand over her mouth as her whole body tingled. She kicked her feet playfully, trying to wriggle away from the unceasing fingers._

_“Had enough, Miss Drew?” the boy taunted._

_“Yemf! Yemf!” Harriet pleaded, laughing louder._

_To Harriet’s relief, the tickling ended. The hand lifted from her mouth and the boy moved around in front of her. As she tried to catch her breath, Harriet looked around the room. They were in a rather opulently decorated bedroom. The walls were painted blue, with bronze sconces providing the light. The bed was a four-poster, just like her dorm at Hogwarts, and there was an enormous wardrobe with another full-length mirror next to it._

_The boy knelt in front of her. She groaned a little as she watched and felt the boy slowly pull up one of her socks for her, which had slipped down while she struggled from the tickling. It was an odd sensation, feeling him pull them up for her. Different, and yet slightly empowering watching him do it for her. He smiled up at her through the mask before leaning down. He lifted the mask just enough, kissing her kneecaps softly._

_Harriet giggled again, biting her lip as the boy began to tie her ankles. She didn’t care about the game anymore. She was enjoying herself too much._

_Finishing her ankles, the boy now began to tie just below her knees. Harriet watched, transfixed, as the ropes went around and around her legs. The boy finished tying below her knees, and finally began to tie above her knees._

_“Y-you want to keep playing?” the boy asked under his breath._

_Harriet smiled down at him, shaking her head. He reached up, gently caressing and cupping his cheek in her hand._

_“So beautiful…” he observed, sounding breathless._

_Harriet flushed looking away. “Not beautiful…”_

_“You are,” the boy insisted. “Look.”_

_The boy walked over to the mirror. Harriet took him in properly. He was wearing a suit, and he turned the mirror so Harriet could see herself in it. Harriet’s eyes moved over her face. Her hair was styled much as it had been for her date with Fred. She was wearing a simple blue cardigan with bronze buttons and a white button up shirt with a Peter Pan collar, a pleated grey knee-length skirt, blue knee-socks and brown penny-loafers. In her hair, she wore a bronze coloured scarf instead of her usual green._

_“Incredible,” the boy said, stroking his hands slowly up and down her upper arms._

_Harriet saw her cheeks redden rapidly. She looked away from the mirror._

_“Why are you so good to me?” she asked. “I’m nobody, I’m a frea—mph.”_

_Harriet was cut off when the boy took a soft scarf he had tied a knot in the middle of and stuffed the knot into Harriet’s mouth._

_“Because you deserve someone who is so good to you… and says who?” the boy explained, tying the ends of the scarf tight behind her head, gagging her._

_Harriet blushed as she chewed the thick knot in her mouth a little, tilting her head a bit this way and that to get the full effect._

_“Said my aunt…” Harriet mumbled into the gag._

_“So, said a true freak, then?”_

_Harriet looked up into the boy’s masked face. Her eyes darted back and forth between the boy’s blue eyes peering down at her through the mask._

_The boy gently began to stroke her hair to comfort her. Harriet slowly let herself smile._

_“Yeah… she was a freak… wasn’t she?” Harriet grunted._

_“Hells yes she was.”_

_“Why should I hate what makes me feel so good?” she mumbled._

_“Why indeed?”_

_Harriet smiled more, wriggling again in the bonds as the boy moved around behind her, kneeling again and gently, tenderly wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She felt his lips ever so softly kiss her just under her left ear._

_“Thank you, Fred…” she groaned, tilting her head to the side, smiling dazedly._

_“Fred?” the boy asked as he softly kissed the edge of her ear. “Why are you thinking of Fred, Dove?”_

Harriet gasped. She looked around the room. She was still in Sirius’ bedroom in the Shrieking Shack. It was a dream. Another stupid, totally wonderful, and happy dream.

Harriet rubbed her forehead. Her scar wasn’t tingling. She didn’t feel nauseous. Her heart wasn’t racing. She simply felt content.

Harriet puzzled a moment. It was another dream like the one she had the night of the attack on Hogsmeade. At the time, Harriet had thought it was a result of the potion she had been breathing. Yet, this time, she had not been under the effect of any potions.

“The hell is wrong with me…?” Harriet asked.

It had been Finn again. Why had it been Finn again? She had even assumed it was Fred from the outset. Or had she?

Harriet sat up. She ran a hand through her hair and took her glasses from the bedside table. She looked around the room, sighing. Her eyes fell on the chair again. Dream Finn was right, what was wrong with her? Nothing. She slid out of bed. Straightening up, Harriet walked over to the chair. She paused halfway there.

 _Ugh_ , she thought, crossing her arms in frustration with herself, _what_ is _wrong with me? It’s just a chair._

She took a breath and started for the chair again.

 _You have to do it,_ Harriet told herself. _Just touch it, then it’ll be real, and it won’t be scary. It won’t be anything; it’ll be just a chair. That’s all it is, it’s just a chair. Wait? A chair? You’re afraid of a chair. Seriously? The chair didn’t tie you up? And why are you so freaked out about this anyway? There’s nothing wrong with you._

_Freak!_

Harriet gripped the chair. She stared down at her hand on the back. She didn’t remember reaching out for it.

 _You did it,_ Harriet thought. _You really did it. See? It’s just a chair._

Harriet took her hand off the chair.

 _No, I’m not a freak. I’m not. And neither is Sirius_.

Harriet looked at the door. It was time. She crossed the room, turning the handle. The house was deathly quiet. She moved to the stairs and headed down them as quietly as she could. One or two of the stairs squeaked, but it did not sound as though she had awoken anyone.

Harriet crept across the sitting room towards the couch where Sirius slept. He was sprawled out, and snoring loudly. In spite of herself, Harriet smiled.

“Sirius?” she whispered, gently shaking his arm.

“Muh…?” Sirius grunted.

“Sirius?”

“GAH! THE RATS!” Sirius cried out, sitting bolt upright on the couch.

“Sirius!” Harriet gasped, taking hold of his shoulders.

Sirius calmed, looking around, rubbing his head. “Wha-happened?”

“I woke you up…?” Harriet said, a little sheepishly.

Sirius sat up, grunting groggily. Harriet sat next to him.

“So, what’s on your mind? Going to finally be out with what’s got you so on edge?”

Harriet twisted her lips. “No… well, not exactly…”

“Not exactly?”

“No… Sirius? I have to tell you a secret… and I have to tell you… because as far as I know you’re the only person who’ll really understand…”

Sirius said nothing. He studied her face closely.

“And… I don’t want Daniel or Remus to know… not yet…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. He glanced towards the upstairs where Daniel and Remus slept. He rose from the couch and gave Harriet a significant look while nodding in the direction of the front door. Harriet followed and together they stepped out into the early morning twilight. In the east, Harriet could just see a hint of lightness on the horizon to the east.

They walked to the edge of the porch and sat. Harriet couldn’t help but smile. She was remembering the previous school year, when Scott had so bravely stridden up to the infamous Shrieking Shack, inspecting it for a way in.

“Alright, what’s the fuss?” Sirius asked.

Harriet chewed her lip. “Sirius…? What if I told you that I know a secret about you…? Well, it’s maybe not so much a secret… but… I know it… and it’s something we really have in common?”

Sirius stared at Harriet. Harriet could tell he was not nearly awake enough to comprehend what Harriet had said.

“Sirius… I…” Harriet took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and forced the words out. “I like being tied up.”

Sirius’ face went from polite bemusement to completely dumbstruck as quickly as someone flipping a light switch. Then, very slowly, horror crept over his face.

“Oh… oh god, Harriet.”

Sirius sprang to his feet, grabbing hold of his hair and pacing rapidly across the front step.

“Oh god, this is terrible! This is all my fault! I knew I shouldn’t have! That voice in my head kept telling me not to do it but I just couldn’t stop myself! I was out of control!”

Harriet blinked. Sirius was blaming himself for it? Did he think it was because of the night he tied her up with Erica?

“Sirius, it is not your fault!” Harriet insisted.

Sirius didn’t seem to hear her. He continued to pace, muttering curses at himself. “The hell’s wrong with you?” Sirius snarled at himself. “They were all right about you all along. You are a monster; you are a freak!”

Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open. All at once in her mind, Sirius stopped being a man in front of her. Instead, he became an awkward, teenage boy, stricken and panicking.

“Sirius!” Harriet shouted, finally snapping her godfather out of it. “It is _not_ your fault!”

Sirius stopped, looking at her again.

Harriet mustered her courage. “I liked being tied up even before that night! That’s what I was doing when I had to run away from the Dursleys!”

“Wh-what?” Sirius asked.

“I was tying myself up in my room… I accidentally knocked over a lamp and it woke my Aunt Marge and she caught me.”

Sirius’ expression melted from dumbstruck to horrified.

“Oh, Harriet…” Sirius said, slowly sitting next to her on the porch once more.

“It… it was horrible,” Harriet forced herself to continue. “She yelled at me, she called me horrible things, then she hit me—”

“SHE DID WHAT?!”

Sirius had just been about to put his arm around her shoulders but instead he shot to his feet almost faster than Harriet could blink. In an instant, Sirius was in a towering rage, his face burning red, and his teeth bared. Harriet cringed, glancing over her shoulder at the upstairs windows, hoping Sirius’ voice hadn’t woken Daniel or Remus.

“That bitch! Oh that cow! Oh I’ll get her for this,” Sirius was pacing again, this time filled with manic rage instead of manic self-loathing.

“Sirius!” Harriet insisted, grabbing hold of his wrist to stop him pacing.

Sirius stopped, the feel of Harriet’s hands holding his wrists seeming to bring him to his senses. His expression did not soften, however.

“It’s okay, Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins were watching the house and came in as soon as they heard what was happening. And besides, I already got her back on my own…” Harriet flushed sheepishly, but she couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, in that instant, the memory of Aunt Marge inflated like a rather hideous balloon suddenly became funny.

Sirius raised his eyebrows as curiosity began to overcome his rage.

“I—uh—I sort of inflated her like a balloon… she was bouncing around the ceiling by the time Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins burst in.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth started twitching. “You blew her up like a balloon…?”

“Yeah,” Harriet replied, trying hard not to laugh herself. “Like a giant beach-ball. Bouncing on the ceiling. All the buttons shot off her cardigan.”

Sirius began laughing in earnest now. Harriet couldn’t help it either. As she joined in the laughter, she marvelled a little internally. For nearly two years now, the memory of that night had filled her with utter self-loathing. Yet now that she was talking to Sirius about it, it was as if the pain of what had happened was washing away.

“Wow, okay… that was good revenge,” Sirius agreed, sitting down once more.

Harriet shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d call it revenge. I didn’t even mean to do it. It just sort of happened.”

“Understandable, but poetic,” Sirius agreed.

“So yeah,” Harriet said. “I’m… yeah… I like that stuff, too.”

Sirius studied her for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Why do you say ‘too’?”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm and she shifted awkwardly. “Well… it was just before the Christmas holiday last school year. I snuck into Hogsmeade because they banned me from going after your last break-in.”

“Ah,” Sirius muttered, now sounding embarrassed himself, giving Harriet an apologetic look.

“We were in the Three Broomsticks, and Professor McGonagall came in with Fudge and Hagrid and Professor Flitwick. They talked about you, and Professor McGonagall said that she should have known you were no good, because you liked tying up girls.”

Sirius snorted with disgust. His face twisted up as he stared off across the remains of Hogsmeade.

“Figures… old busy-body. She was always trying to catch me at stuff like that, all because one girl, well…”

“Well, what?”

Sirius sighed. “There was a girl who was _really_ into me, and I wasn’t so much… but one day after Jessica—your friend Dora’s mother—rather soundly rejected me, I well… I gave in.”

Sirius grimaced, staring off in the opposite direction now.

“So, we fooled around a bit, and well… after it was over I decided I’d made a mistake and that I didn’t think it would work. She went straight to Professor McGonagall and told her that I’d… well… _forced_ her, I guess would be the nicest way I could put it. She wanted her revenge because I was an idiot. She didn’t get it though. There was no proof really, it was just her word against mine. McGonagall did keep an irritatingly close eye on me after that.”

Harriet put a hand on Sirius’ arm, looking up at him sadly. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “How old were you?”

“Just turned sixteen,” Sirius said. “Not a whole lot older than you.”

Harriet gave Sirius’ arm a little squeeze. He gave her a forced smile.

“Ah, water under the bridge now. Nothing she can do about it to hurt me anymore.”

Harriet felt a strong kick in her gut. Rita Skeeter knew. She must have overheard the rumours somewhere. Maybe there wasn’t anything Professor McGonagall could do to hurt Sirius, but Skeeter certainly could.

“So… there’s something I have to ask, because I’ve never really gotten the chance to talk to anyone else who also likes stuff like that.”

Sirius smiled kindly at her. “Of course, kiddo.”

Harriet thought. “Well… I guess my first question is—well—what do you like about it? Why do you like it?”

Sirius frowned, though not as though he was upset by the question. More as though he was deep in thought.

“Well, to be honest, I’m not one hundred percent sure. It’s called bondage, by the way.”

“Bondage?” Harriet asked. She wasn’t entirely sure she liked the sound of the term.

“Yeah, not the best word,” Sirius said, picking up on her tone. “But it is what it is. Anyway, what appeals to me, I suppose, is sort of being the one doing the work. I like the feeling that I’m taking care of my partner, attending to her needs and comfort. That I’m making her feel pampered and special… I don’t know how much I actually accomplished that, but it was my intention.”

Sirius paused, still thinking. “That, and I liked the artistry of it. There’s a beauty to it; to making sure you tie just tight enough, but not too tight; to making sure you know how to tie in the right positions; knowing how long your partner can take. I don’t know, I feel like just anyone can romp around under the sheets and have their fun. Me? I never much cared about my own gratification. It was making them feel good that was gratifying to me.”

Harriet realized her mouth was hanging open as she listened to Sirius talk. She closed it, looking away and hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“What about you?” Sirius asked.

Harriet thought, glad for the distraction. “Well, I don’t know… the only time I’ve ever been tied up for real was by you. I have had a couple dreams about it though, like that night after the attack when we took that potion that gave us all crazy dreams.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was in this big medieval looking bedroom and I was tied on the bed and the boy was cuddling me close and whispering sweet things to me and caring about me and I just felt like… well I guess like how you put it, like I was just so special and safe.”

Sirius nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“And then, I just had another one tonight,” Harriet admitted. “It woke me up and it’s why I decided I finally had to talk to you, because you’re the only person I know who’d understand.”

“I see… and what was the second one about?”

Harriet pursed her lips. As she tried to remember all the details of that dream, a nagging started in the back of her mind. She felt as though there was another dream she should be remembering too, but a different dream. A much different, and darker dream. Yet, she still couldn’t quite bring it to the fore of her mind.

“Sorry, you don’t have to say,” Sirius said.

Harriet was jolted back to her senses. “No, no. I was just kind of remembering something else. Anyway, this time it was like… the boy and I were playing a game, like I was Nancy Drew and he was some robber or something. He was tying me to a chair and he thought he hurt me or something and it turned out we were just playing a game, and he started telling me I’m okay, that I’m not a freak like Aunt Marge said, that I’m good and all of that…”

“Heh, sounds like a smart bloke, this Fred,” Sirius chuckled.

Harriet’s stomach clenched again. “It… umm… it wasn’t Fred…”

“No?” Sirius asked. “After the way you were looking at him after the Second Task?”

Harriet shook her head slowly. “No, it was Finn, the boy I told you about from the Hallowe’en party. Both times, in fact.”

“Ooohhhh,” Sirius nodded. “I see… heh, well I can understand that.”

“You can?”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius said, stretching. “‘The one that got away,’ it’s a hard thing to let go.”

Harriet sighed.

“That being said; come off it girl. You’re only fourteen. You’ve got plenty of time left. Date as many people as you want. It’s your life. But… well be careful, right?”

Harriet nodded, thinking. “Wish I knew why it’s so hard,” Harriet said, sighing. “Like in the dream last night, at first I thought I was with Fred, but then it turned out it was Finn. And yet, like I think deep down somehow I knew it was Finn, and I just said Fred more like I was hoping it would be rather than wanting it to be…”

“Well, by the sound of it, Finn is a decent bloke, though admittedly you don’t know him all that well.”

“No, I don’t…”

“And your boy, Fred, seems alright,” Sirius said, more cheerfully. “He was rather distraught the night after the attack.”

“Yeah, Fred’s been there for me a lot,” Harriet admitted. “But I don’t know… somehow it was never until now that I really started to see past him being just a friend. But when I met Finn, it was just like… ‘Wow!’ you know? Like he just charged into my life and hasn’t left for some reason.”

“Hmmmm,” Sirius mused, stroking his beard in thought. “Well… I’ll tell you what, Harriet. I’d say the boy you want, is the boy who’ll do something for you without wanting anything in return. That’s the boy who really thinks the sun shines out of your every pore.”

Harriet digested this. While Fred had helped keep Harriet safe quite a bit over the last few years, he did generally always want something. Even after helping her with the second task, he’d wanted her to go on a date with him. But was that really him wanting a date for helping her? Or was it just innocent timing?

Meanwhile, Finn had helped Ginny out at the Yule Ball, and he hadn’t expected anything from Ginny for it. However, he hadn’t seemed very interested in Ginny.

Sirius ruffled her hair. “Well, it’s about that time,” he said looking at the sunrise. “How about we go make some breakfast?”

Harriet grinned and they headed back inside.

## * * * *

_Piff-piff-piff-piff_

The flat stone hoped across the otherwise still surface of the lake.

“Good one!” Daniel called from further down the coast.

Harriet grinned a bit with pride. She had been having trouble all morning getting the stones to skip properly, the way Daniel and the twins could. They had all gone for a walk by the lake, Daniel, Aurora, the twins, and Harriet. It was the last full day before returning to Hogwarts, so Daniel had wanted to make it special.

Harriet was starting to feel herself once more. Her talks with Sirius had reassured her about many of the things that had been nagging at her for a long time. She was not a freak, and while Daniel couldn’t be her father, he was taking on that role.

There was still Skeeter’s looming threats on her mind, however. Even if they were lies, hadn’t the hate mail Kieran and Hagrid received proven how ready people were to accept Skeeter’s lies as fact?

Harriet felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, she wanted Daniel to get money so he could afford to rebuild his shop and house. On the other hand, if she stood up to Skeeter, Skeeter might publish that article and the support for Daniel would be in jeopardy.

Harriet tried to push those thoughts from her head. She felt as though her mind was far too full at the moment. There were so many thoughts she couldn’t focus or make sense of them, and she felt as though she just kept going around and around in circles trying to sort everything out. No, all she needed to focus on right now was getting just as good at skipping stones as the twins.

“Don’t get too far ahead, girls,” Aurora called after the twins who were sprinting up the shore.

“We won’t,” the girls called back as they proceeded to move farther and farther ahead.

Aurora shook her head and sighed. Daniel chuckled and took Aurora’s hand in his as they continued walking. Harriet twisted her lips. That was another threat that Skeeter’s article presented: its threat to Daniel and Aurora’s relationship.

Harriet gave her head another shake and bent down looking for more stones. Finally, she found a sufficiently flat stone and flicked her arm sideways like Daniel had shown her.

_Piff-piff-piff-bloop_

“Shoot,” Harriet muttered.

“Not bad,” Daniel called. “Need a bit more flick of the wrist to get the spin going.”

Harriet waved back at him in response. She put her hands in her pockets, just looking out at the cold lake. As she did, the memories of the second task came flooding back to her. Daniel’s deathly face, the cold, the Grindylows, and of course the aigikampoi.

She knelt beside the lake now, looking at its surface. If she was being honest with herself, she really wanted to see the aigikampoi again. But how? They had saved not just her life, but Daniel’s, Cedric’s, and Cho’s as well. She now felt as though she was in their debt, and wanted to know how she could possibly make it up to them. Sure, she had freed the kid, but that still wasn’t equal to what they had done for her.

“Y’al’right, Harricane?”

Harriet looked around. Daniel had walked back to her. By the looks of it, Aurora had gone on ahead to find the girls.

“Yeah,” Harriet said standing. “Just so much on my mind, with the tournament and everything.”

Daniel gave Harriet an ever-suffering look. “Oh come on, Harriet, I know you better than that.”

Harriet tightened her lips. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking a lot… about us,” Harriet said.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Us?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said brushing back some of her fringe from her eyes. “Like… you know… after the first and second tasks…”

Daniel didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at her with searching eyes. “Yes, you mean—of course—when you called me—”

“Daddy,” Harriet finished for him. “Yeah, I mean, I know of course that James is my real father.”

Harriet paused. Part of her was kicking herself for doing so, but she felt she had to test Daniel at least a little bit. She studied him closely, trying to gauge his reaction to that statement.

Daniel simply looked bemused. “Well, yeah?” he said, appearing completely oblivious as to where Harriet was going with this. “And?”

Harriet studied him a bit longer. She felt as though that reaction told her all she really needed. He didn’t seem guilty at all, or as though he were hiding anything.

Satisfied, Harriet continued. “But… I feel like the only father I’ve ever really known is you.”

Again, Daniel didn’t respond. His look did melt from bemused to soft and touched. “Well, you’re definitely the closest thing to a daughter I’ve ever known… honestly, this past year or so… it’s… a small part of me has begun to regret that I didn’t settle down earlier, that I didn’t start a family.”

Daniel’s smile grew. “But then I remind myself that well… no one could ever replace you, and if I had gone ahead with that, we have might never have happened. And that… I just don’t know if I could live with that anymore.”

Harriet was now the one with nothing to say. She could feel Daniel’s words burning inside her mind. She felt as though she was feeling herself for the first time in weeks. It was as though she had been in a reverse coma ever since Skeeter had confronted her, as if her body was still moving around but her brain had shut down.

At once, tears began to flow from Harriet’s eyes. Daniel blinked as he noticed and concern swept over his face.

“Harriet? Harriet honey what’s—”

Daniel didn’t get the chance to finish. He was cut off by Harriet running towards him and grabbing hold of him so hard she felt the nose-pads of her glasses bend out of shape.

“Harriet?” Daniel asked, hugging her tight back and stroking her hair. “Sweetie what is it?”

“I’ve missed you!” Harriet blurted out, barely audible through her sobs. “Last Christmas was the first time I’ve ever not wanted to go back to Hogwarts. I just wanted to stay with you forever. You’re always there for me and I didn’t appreciate that and let it tear me up inside and I don’t want to go back to the Dursleys I want to stay with you and have you be my real dad now and just have everything be okay again.”

“Oh, Harriet,” Daniel said hugging her tighter. He released her gently, but only so he could kneel down and dab her eyes for her. “I’m always going to be here… always.”

Harriet kept staring at him. It was difficult to make out his face through the tears and her now off-kilter glasses. Daniel gently took them and tapped them with his wand, restoring them good as new.

“Daniel…?”

“Yes, Harriet?”

Harriet bit her lip. She had to ask. She couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Can… can I just call you Dad from now on…?”

Daniel’s cheeks went red, but apart from that, he didn’t hesitate.

“Of course.”

Harriet buried her head into his shoulder, and broke down once more. The world around her disappeared. She no longer heard the wind in the trees, nor did she hear the excited gasps and happy coos of the Sinistra twins as they looked on. The only world that mattered to Harriet was the one she was in at that moment, hugging Daniel, the only father she’d ever known.


	35. Unexpected Returns

“Lies are dangerously pervasive. Lies invariably beget more lies to attempt to cover up the ones that came before.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet did not sleep much that night. However, unlike other nights this spring, Harriet wasn’t worrying. Instead, she was planning. She was thinking hard, trying to piece together everything she knew about Rita Skeeter.

As she thought, Harriet was coming to a lonely conclusion. She would have to keep her friends in the dark about this one. It wasn’t that she mistrusted her friends, it was that she now mistrusted Hogwarts. Rita Skeeter had clearly overheard her talk with Scott wherein Scott told her about his worries over liking boys, a conversation where only Harriet and Scott had been in the room (as far as Harriet knew).

This meant that Harriet couldn’t talk about anything within Hogwarts itself without the chance of Rita Skeeter somehow overhearing it. However, she was sure she needed help of some kind in getting rid of Skeeter.

She sat at her desk, jotting down notes. Rita Skeeter could possibly turn invisible, Professor Moody had warned her about such spells. There was also the chance that Rita Skeeter had an invisibility cloak. She would have to ask Professor Moody if he had seen her around the grounds recently with his magical eye, especially near her after the second task.

Another person to ask was Professor Sutler. Perhaps he knew of ways that Rita Skeeter could eavesdrop on conversations. Harriet pondered what Rita had said about Professor Sutler, and why she had gone after him in the first place. What was there about a magizoologist that could be so scandalous?

At about two in the morning, a knock on the door made Harriet jump.

“Y-yes?” Harriet asked.

“Brought you some tea and nibbles while you work,” came Remus’ voice.

Harriet blinked. She hadn’t heard Remus come home. He had ‘gone away’ the previous night, as it was a full moon.

“Come in,” Harriet said.

The door opened and Remus entered. He looked terrible. His skin was pale and even looked a bit saggy, as if stretched. He had large bags under his eyes, but he was still smiling kindly as he carried in the tray of tea and biscuits.

“Thanks,” Harriet said, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. She tried as casually as she could to cover up what she was working on as Remus set the tray down on her desk.

“How’d you know I was still awake?” Harriet asked.

Remus chuckled and tapped his right ear. “Lingering side-effect, I’m afraid. A bitten wolf’s sense of hearing and smell begin improving about a week before transformation and remain heightened for about a week thereafter. It makes it rather difficult to get a proper sleep for a while, or be around people in general for that fortnight.”

Harriet nodded as she sipped the warm chamomile. At once she felt a deep sense of peace and calm.

“So, Daniel says you had an interesting conversation,” Remus said, sitting on her bed and smiling kindly at her. Despite his haggard appearance, Harriet could see his eyes twinkling in the dim light of her desk lamp.

“Oh, yeah,” Harriet smiled. Normally, Harriet would have blushed at such a tease, but now all she could do was smile about it.

Remus’ smile grew. “So, I assume between that and your talk with Sirius the night you arrived you’re feeling on the mend?”

Harriet’s eyes widened. “Sirius told you?”

“No, no,” Remus said quickly, holding up his hands. He tapped his ear again. “Remember?”

“Oh, right,” Harriet sighed. “We even went outside…”

“Ah, a fool’s errand with a werewolf near the full moon around, I’m afraid,” Remus chuckled softly. “That being said, if you assume that none of the rest of us knew about Sirius’ fancies, you’re gravely mistaken.”

“Oh, right,” Harriet muttered, now feeling a bit foolish.

“Prior to our sixth year, Sirius was rather more boastful about his ‘uniqueness’,” Remus explained.

“Yeah, he told me about the girl,” Harriet said darkly.

Remus sighed. “Yes, he wasn’t quite the same after that. He was still bombastic and arrogant as ever but you could tell there was a part of him that was diminished.”

Harriet rubbed her arms looking in the direction of the sitting room where Sirius was still sleeping on the sofa.

“It’s part of the magic of Hogwarts, I suppose,” Remus said. “Almost nothing ever got to Sirius, except that.”

“How come?” Harriet asked.

“Well, if he was expelled from Hogwarts, it would be rather difficult for us to see each other except over summers, yes?”

“Good point,” Harriet agreed. She remembered all too well her worries that she would never go back to Hogwarts the summer before her second year.

“Well,” Remus continued, his eyes drifting to Harriet’s hastily hidden stack of notes. “I presume this has something to do with the upcoming gala you’ve been so quiet about?”

Harriet’s stomach clenched.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?”

“But of course,” Remus chuckled. “You will be wearing some of Daniel’s own designs for the gala, yes? Of course we know you’ll be in it.”

“Then… why didn’t anyone say anything?” Harriet asked.

“Well, when you didn’t say anything, yourself, we were under the impression you wanted it to be a surprise,” Remus explained. “However, after your incident with the anxiety attack, we thought perhaps it was something else, but did not want to press you on it in case it would bring back the anxiety and stress.”

Harriet grimaced. She was having a hard time meeting Remus’ eyes. She glanced around the room. Her paranoia about Rita Skeeter was growing. Could she say anything here? Could Skeeter overhear her here in the Shrieking Shack? And what if Remus told Daniel? She remembered the way that Sirius had gone off when Harriet told him about Aunt Marge.

She also remembered Sirius telling her how Daniel had stormed into Professor Dumbledore’s office every time he was upset about something with Harriet. Surely, if Daniel knew about Skeeter’s threat, he would do the same for Skeeter. Then the article would be put out, and Daniel’s name dragged through the mud, and his chance to reopen his shop possibly lost forever, and his relationship with Aurora could be ruined.

“I… well… I do want to do it for Daniel,” Harriet said, quite honestly. She did want to help out his shop, there was nothing dishonest about that. “I just… it feels weird thinking about getting up and having people stare at me… I mean you heard people at the second task?”

Remus sighed. “Yes… we heard them. They’re lucky Daniel was in the lake and Professor McGonagall was faster than Sirius.”

Harriet gave a forced laugh. “Yeah, probably not wrong…”

“It’s going to be fine, Harriet,” Remus said putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’ll only be one day.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said, trying to sound more reassured than she actually felt, because it wasn’t the fashion show that was weighing on her mind.

“I, um… I also wanted to apologize to you for something, Harriet,” Remus said. Now he sounded awkward.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Well, Daniel has brought it to my attention that I have been perhaps a bit distant with you…” Remus said, sighing and crossing his arms in apparent self-frustration.

“I wish this was an instance where I could simply blame it on my lycanthropy and how it’s difficult for me to make connections with people because of it, but sadly that would mean I would be lying to both you and myself.”

“Huh?”

Remus’ lips twitched. “The thing is, Harriet, working at Hogwarts was undoubtedly one of the greatest things to ever happen to me, short of my friendship with Daniel, your father, Sirius and Peter. For once, I had real purpose and I was getting my old friends back. What’s more, for the first time, people were giving me respect, treating me like a normal person.”

Harriet bit her lip as she looked up into Remus’ prematurely aged face. He looked ten to fifteen years older than Daniel in this light.

“And so, I’m ashamed to admit it, but sometimes it is difficult for me to let go of being a teacher. It feels… wrong… somehow, to let myself become too familiar with pupils, even former ones.”

“Oh Remus,” Harriet said shaking her head. “I stopped thinking of you as Professor Lupin ages ago…”

Remus’ smile returned. “I know. It’s my issue, and mine alone. Furthermore, to be completely honest, it also makes me pine a little.”

“You miss being a teacher?”

“I do… I really do,” Remus admitted, running a hand through his mostly grey hair. “But that is not fair to you, and so I am here to apologize.”

“Remus,” Harriet sighed. “You don’t have to apologize. You were the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I’ve ever had.”

Remus chuckled. “You’ve very kind, Harriet. But I’m sure I couldn’t hold a candle to Mad-Eye. He’s the one who taught the three of us our most advanced magic, after all.”

Harriet shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t think knowing something well necessarily makes you a good teacher. I mean look at Professor Binns.”

Remus laughed in earnest now. “A very fair point, Harriet. A very fair point indeed.”

“I mean… we learn lots of stuff from Professor Moody, and I know I’ve been learning loads… but you made us want to learn it all. You made it fun and interesting.”

Remus’ face was getting rather red as he resumed rubbing his hair, ruffling it up.

“I… thank you,” Remus said. “That’s very kind of you, Harriet, very kind indeed.”

Harriet sighed. She could tell Remus still didn’t believe her. At least not entirely.

“Remus…” Harriet said in an ever suffering voice. “You… Daniel… Sirius… Aurora and the girls… you’re _all_ the family I’ve never had. Like, Daniel’s the dad I’ve never had, Aurora’s the mum I’ve never had, the girls are the sisters I’ve never had, you’re the uncle I’ve never had—well okay, I have an uncle but honestly… you’re so incredible compared to him.”

“From what I hear, that is not a difficult feat,” Remus chortled.

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled. “And Sirius is like the big protective brother I’ve never had… so… you were a great teacher, but I think I would like you as an uncle even better.”

The red returned to Remus’ cheeks at once. Harriet rose and to emphasize her point, she hugged him tight around the chest.

Remus froze, but then ever so slowly, he hugged her back.

“You are a hugger, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“Yep, get used to it,” Harriet said.

Remus laughed and hugged her tighter.

## * * * *

It was the following Monday morning. Harriet had woken early and left before anyone else had awoken to head down to Professor Sutler’s office. She wasn’t sure what she was going to ask him about, she just had a gut feeling that talking to him was the right path. It would hopefully give her at least a little insight into how to deal with this situation.

Harriet stopped in front of his door, took a breath, and knocked three times. She was greeted with silence but then heard the sound of approaching feet. The door opened and Professor Sutler looked around before he looked down and jumped at seeing Harriet there. Harriet felt a rising sense of irritation. She wasn’t really _that_ short, was she?

“Oh, hello there, Miss Potter,” Professor Sutler said kindly, though he sounded only half awake. He looked it as well, wearing shabby but comfortable looking clothes.

“Hello, Professor,” Harriet said. “Can I—um—can I talk to you for a minute? It’s kind of really important.”

Professor Sutler gave her a concerned look but stepped aside, beckoning Harriet inside. “Of course, have a seat.”

Harriet entered, looking around the office. The room was full of strange and fantastical looking skeletons. The walls were covered in moving posters of magical creatures, little word-bubbles popping up to give tidbits of information about the creature pictured. Harriet was surprised. She expected it to be full of living creatures, as it had been when Remus was Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and brought in live dark creatures.

Even more surprising was that it wasn’t just animals. There were also a great deal of tribal artefacts; strange masks, brightly decorated thatched matts…

“What’s on your mind, Miss Potter?” Professor Sutler asked, taking a seat and pouring himself some coffee from an ancient and battered coffee pot that was sitting over an enchanted flame on his desk.

“Well,” Harriet thought. “You know about the articles Rita Skeeter has put out about me and my friends?”

Professor Sutler almost dropped the pot as he went to set it back on the rack over the flame.

“Ah, yes, yes I am, I’m afraid,” Professor Sutler said, recovering himself and setting the pot down properly.

“Well, I heard some other things… about how once she went after you and hurt you really badly a long time ago?”

Professor Sutler was looking very uncomfortable. “Yes… well I suppose there’s no denying that. Anyone can read old editions of the _Prophet_ in the library to find that out…”

Harriet shook her head. “No, Professor, I’m not really concerned with what she said about you.”

“No?” Professor Sutler asked, giving Harriet a sceptical look.

“No, sir,” Harriet affirmed. “I just more wanted to know… how you dealt with it?”

Professor Sutler sighed. He took a sip of the coffee and leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t know if I’m necessarily the best role-model, Miss Potter,” Professor Sutler admitted. “My solution was to more or less run away, bury myself in work, in the wild. To get as far away from people as I possibly could.”

“So… when we were talking while collecting the Snidgets…”

Professor Sutler snorted into his tin coffee cup. “Yeah… Rita taught me all I needed to know about other people: ‘Do not trust.’”

Harriet chewed the inside of her cheek. Professor Sutler narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?” he asked suspiciously. “It’s not just because of what she wrote about your friends, is it?”

Professor Sutler raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Harriet said sincerely. “I really can’t say what it is… I just needed to talk to someone else who’s dealt with her.”

She could tell that Professor Sutler wanted to press the matter further. Harriet thought quickly on how to change the subject.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Professor… you don’t have to tell me what she said about you, but could I ask why she attacked you?”

Professor Sutler seemed to deflate as he leaned back in his chair. He suddenly seemed very tired, though not from the early hour. He looked as though the entire world was weighing on his shoulders. It was a look and feeling Harriet knew all too well.

“That might be something even more difficult for me to answer than what she said about me,” Professor Sutler said. He studied her face hard. “But I can tell you’ve seen that Rita does not choose her targets randomly… she always has some angle, or some vendetta…”

“Is that what she had against you?” Harriet asked. “A vendetta?”

Professor Sutler grimaced. “You could call it that, yes. You see, Miss Potter, once upon a time, when I worked for the Wizarding Wireless Network doing my radio show on nature and animals, I met a bright, smiling, happy young reporter who was just starting out for the _Daily Prophet_ …”

“No!” Harriet gasped.

Professor Sutler snorted and gave his head a little shake, staring off into a corner. “Something you’ll learn soon, Miss Potter: people often times aren’t who you think they are. Sometimes… sometimes they act like sunshine and daisies… until you do something they don’t want.”

Harriet’s memory clicked. “So, Rita Skeeter, that’s who you were talking about when you were talking about how sometimes… how was it?”

“How real monsters come at you with a smile, yeah,” Professor Sutler muttered. “For a year… we were a power couple. We went everywhere together; we did everything together.”

“What happened?” Harriet asked. She felt breathless.

“I… was promoted. I was to have a sort of magical science block, four hours every Sunday afternoon. I was given an assistant… a pretty young woman. Rita was jealous, and livid. After a while, she demanded I fire her. She was a fantastic assistant though. She was dedicated and passionate about the material. I wasn’t going to fire her just because Rita had some wrong-headed idea about my relationship with a subordinate. It would have been completely unethical, for one, and for two she was already married.”

Professor Sutler took another sip of coffee, still staring into the corner bitterly. “Then she started becoming suspect of any interaction I had with other women… the final straw came when I came home from work early one day and found her going through all of my old letters, both personal and work, trying to find anything _intimate_ between me and other women… anything bad I might have said about her…”

“No!” Harriet gasped.

“Yep,” Professor Sutler sighed. “I broke up with her on the spot. Thought that’d just be the end of it, but no… she set out to ruin me. She called several of my academic papers into question, hinted at my invented infidelity, put out enough bad press that finally I was called in to the president’s office of the WWN and told that they were ‘moving in another direction.’”

Harriet kept looking at Professor Sutler, feeling his pain.

“Well, had little choice after that. Headed out into the wild. Pretty much lived on my own, moving from little village to little village across India, south-east Asia, back across Russia, then down through Africa. Catalogued everything about magical and non-magical flora and fauna I could. I just lost myself in my work. I suppose I can’t complain too much anymore. I’ve seen more in the past fifteen years than most people see in their entire lives.”

Professor Sutler didn’t really look or sound as though he believed what he was saying. However, Harriet supposed he had a point.

“I’m hoping to make another book… a sequel if you will to Scamander’s _Fantastical Beasts_. Something that might get people to care about animals and nature again, to want to go on adventures and see the real world. I have plenty of notes, I was just about to document a Nundu hunt, something no one else has ever… well… no matter now.”

Professor Sutler sighed. “I’m sorry, Miss Potter. I don’t know what help I’ve really been.”

Harriet chewed her lip, not sure what to say. It hadn’t helped terribly, and yet it had. It hadn’t told her what to do about Rita Skeeter, and yet Harriet felt as though she had a clearer picture of her. She was human, after all. A terrible human, but still a human. It made her seem less terrifying, for certain.

“I think you have, sir,” Harriet replied finally. “I suppose I just had to know what made her tick, why she did what she did.”

“Well, sadly, I suppose it was me who sent her down that path… I mean she was already fairly talented at puncturing egos, and finding dirt on people no one else could… but I think that was where she learned she could write most anything she wanted, as long as there was a grain of truth to it. She rose like a rocket through the _Daily Prophet_ after that; started writing all kinds of exclusives for _Witch Weekly_ and all that.”

Harriet kept looking at Professor Sutler sympathetically. He still looked very tired.

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“No, I know,” Professor Sutler replied, forcing a smile back on his face. “Some old scars just never heal. Some people… some people just know how to reel you in… how to put their thumb on the one thing that makes you feel good and special, and make you feel as though they’re the only people who can ever truly appreciate that about you. They can manipulate you so well like that, that even now… after over a decade… if there was somehow a chance that things could go back to the way they were… I’d probably be tempted.”

Professor Sutler sighed again. He flicked his wand at the flame under his coffee pot and it vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s almost time for breakfast. Let’s head down, what do you say?”

“Okay, Professor,” Harriet agreed.

Professor Sutler smiled and rose, when another thought came to Harriet.

“Oh, sir? One last thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Did Hagrid ever tell you about the Agi… the Aiga…”

“Aigikampoi,” Professor Sutler corrected, chuckling. “Yes, he did. I never would have believed it…”

“Are you going to study them, sir?”

“Probably not,” Professor Sutler replied earnestly.

“Why not?”

“Frankly, Miss Potter, some things are so special, so rare, and so wonderful, that they should probably remain hidden, don’t you think?”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“They just—they saved my life, and Daniel’s, and Cedric and Cho’s… I guess I just want to know how to make it up to them. Like, how would I see them again?”

Professor Sutler smiled, kindly. “Quite understandable. I suppose just finding some time, quiet and alone, to go sit by the lake and wait. They’ll probably find you.”

Harriet thought, wondering when she’d ever find time to do that. Professor Sutler meanwhile was looking at Harriet and shaking his head, incredulously.

“Uh, sir?” Harriet asked.

“Sorry, Miss Potter, sorry,” Professor Sutler said waving a dismissive hand. “Just marvelling… you know, I don’t think I have ever told anyone that before.”

“Not in all that time?” Harriet asked, aghast. She had only been under Skeeter’s thumb for a few weeks now and it had nearly crushed her. She couldn’t imagine bottling all of that away inside for years and years.

“No,” Professor Sutler said, rising from his chair. “But now, I think it’s high-time we got some proper food in us before a rigorous day of study after a well needed break, yes?”

Harriet agreed and together they headed down to breakfast.

## * * * *

If Harriet didn’t know better, she would have said that life at Hogwarts had gone more or less back to normal. She still had the looming threat of Rita Skeeter hanging over her head, but somehow she felt more resilient about it. She had a better understanding of who Rita Skeeter was, and couldn’t feel as frightened of her anymore.

However, she still had no proper plan in how to get out from under Skeeter. She still could not tell her friends everything about what was going on, but she had at least confided in them all about the gala. This seemed to satisfy most of them. Apparently they all knew already that Harriet was going to be in the gala, as Scott and Dora’s parents were going to be in attendance.

How was she going to get Rita Skeeter? There had to be some way. There had to be something on her that Harriet could use; some way Harriet could trick Skeeter into exposing herself. But without being able to rely on her friends, Harriet was coming up with nothing. She’d never really had to do anything without her friends before. Well, of course there had been facing the basilisk, and going against Quirrell and Lord Voldemort, but it had been her friends who helped her get to those points.

First year it was Kieran who kept Fluffy asleep so they could get into the trap door, Marcus who got them past the Devil’s Snare, Dora who caught the key, Ronnie who got them past the chess board, Scott who solved the planetarium, and Hermione who helped Harriet past the flames. Second year it was Scott again who risked nearly certain death to track down the basilisk.

What was the key? Where was Skeeter vulnerable? Nothing Sutler had told her had really helped Harriet figure that out. She was certainly paranoid, but how could Harriet use that? She didn’t know anything about Skeeter to use as leverage? And somehow she felt wrong using Skeeter’s own tactics against her.

The only lead Harriet could think of was Alessa Selene. Alessa had said her mother made Skeeter go away by paying her off. Harriet knew she had enough she could try and pay Skeeter to go away, but somehow she didn’t think that would work in this case. Skeeter had gone so far to find almost every week spot Harriet had. She doubted just money would get rid of Skeeter now.

There was also a particular awkward moment where her friends finally confronted her about being in the gala. Harriet felt stupid for thinking she could have hidden it any longer. Apparently, both Dora and Scott’s parents were attending the gala and had told Dora and Scott.

“You could have told us,” Ronnie said, her voice full of hurt.

“Sorry!” Harriet insisted for what felt like the hundredth time. “I didn’t know what to do about it. I wanted it to be a surprise!”

Harriet was becoming rather surprised with herself over how it was becoming easier and easier for her to lie to people. She didn’t like it one bit, yet she didn’t feel as though she had a choice. Not until she was free of Rita Skeeter.

 “Well you still told Kieran about it,” Dora said, her voice full of accusation.

“Kieran knew the letter was from Alessa!” Harriet defended herself. “He had me dead to rights!”

“Ugh, come on guys,” Marcus said sourly. “Can we go just one month this year without fighting about something?”

Harriet felt a deep sense of relief and gratitude towards Marcus for voicing this attitude.

“Well, from what I hear, modelling like that is a bit rough,” Scott advised, further altering the subject. “It’s really competitive, and with terrible standards that models have to try and fit. Like they can’t be over a certain weight, they have to have very specific measurements…”

Harriet grimaced, remembering Alessa’s warnings. Just what had Rita Skeeter forced Harriet into?

Even worse, as April turned into May, Harriet was starting to feel extra anxious. The Third Task was now approaching. At least this time, Harriet and the other champions were going to be told what was coming. However, that was not as calming to Harriet’s nerves as she’d hoped. If they considered dragons a surprise that the champions could have handled on their own, how terrible would the obstacles of the third task be?

Her answer finally came the night of the twenty-fourth of May. Professor McGonagall held her back after class.

“Potter, you are to head down to the Quidditch pitch at nine o’clock,” Professor McGonagall explained. “Mr Bagman will be there to greet you and the other champions to fill you in on the third task.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harriet said and headed off after her friends.

As she did, she thought. She could take her invisibility cloak, she reasoned. Not in case anything happened, but so she could sneak away to the lake afterwards. She really did want to see the aigikampoi again. But how would she summon them? Professor Sutler had said to just go sit by the lake and wait.

Well, Harriet was tired of waiting. That night, she left a little early, around eight-thirty, and instead of heading straight out to the Quidditch pitch, she snuck down, her invisibility cloak stuffed away in her book bag, and headed towards the kitchens.

She tickled the pear and snuck inside. The elves greeted her with their usual gusto and cheer. She gave Bunko a very awkward smile as she accepted the horde of apples he and a couple other elves dumped into her bag for her. She wasn’t sure if they would like apples, but she thought it was worth a shot.

Harriet thanked the elves and hurried off towards the pitch. She reached the stairs at the same time as Cedric.

“Oh, hey, Harriet,” Cedric said giving her his radiant smile that always made Harriet a little giddy.

“Oh—hi,” Harriet replied awkwardly, weighed down by at least fifteen apples and her invisibility cloak.

“What were you up to down here?” Cedric asked. His tone was perfectly casual, yet with the guilt weighing on her mind, Harriet felt as though Cedric was shining an interrogation lamp in her face like in the police shows that Aunt Marge and Uncle Vernon watched.

“Oh just… had to see Professor Snape about something,” Harriet lied quickly.

Cedric shuddered. “Oof, don’t envy you. He’s bad enough to deal with in class.”

Harriet forced a laugh as they continued out into the grounds.

“So, what you reckon it’s going to be?” Cedric asked jovially as the brisk evening air enfolded them. “Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels. She reckons we’re going to have to hunt for treasure.”

“That wouldn’t be too terrible,” Harriet thought, making a note to ask Hagrid for a Niffler should that be the case.

They continued on in silence before entering the pitch. The moment they took it in, their eyes sprang open and their jaws fell slack.

“What have they done to it?!” Cedric exclaimed, his face aghast.

The pitch was no longer flat. Now, it was covered in low, criss-crossing, twisting and turning walls. Harriet bent down to examine the nearest one.

“They’re hedges,” Harriet observed.

“Hello!” Ludo Bagman’s jovial voice called to them.

Bagman was walking into the middle of the pitch, stepping over the low hedges with Kazunari, Fleur, Krum, and Aello in tow.

“Well, what d’you think?” Bagman asked cheerfully, spreading his arms wide, gesturing to the hedges. “Coming along quite nicely, don’t you think? Give them a month and Hagrid’ll have them twenty-foot high. Don’t worry! You’ll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal as soon as the task is done!”

Harriet and Cedric exchanged looks. Clearly neither of them were thrilled about this use of their beloved pitch, all the same.

“Now, who can tell me what we’re making here?”

“Maze,” Krum answered first.

“That’s right,” Bagman replied happily. “A maze!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Kazunari scowling at the ground, muttering to himself in Japanese. She wondered what had upset him so?

“The third task’s really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks.”

“We seemply ‘ave to get through the maze?” asked Fleur.

“Oh there will be obstacles, alright,” Bagman chortled, wagging a finger at her. “Hagrid and Sutler are providing a number of creatures. There will also be some enchantments that will need to be broken, those sorts of things. Now, the champions will enter the maze in order from the most points to the least. So, Kazunari, you will be first into the maze, followed by Miss Potter, then Mr Diggory, then Miss Delacour, Aello, and Mr Krum will enter at the same time, being all within about a point of each other.”

“How’s that fair?” Cedric asked. “If anything, those of us with higher points should go last.”

“Oh believe you me, my boy,” Bagman said resting a finger alongside his nose. “You’ll all be in for a fighting chance with all the obstacles! Should be plenty of fun!”

Harriet wasn’t so sure. She knew all too well the types of animals Hagrid was likely to put in the maze.

“Very well, if there aren’t any further questions, let’s all head back inside shall we? Still a bit chilly out, eh!”

Harriet, Bagman, and Cedric started back towards the school while Kazunari, Krum, Aello and Fleur headed towards their schools’ respective homes. However, just as Bagman was about to ask Harriet something, Harriet paused. Krum and Aello weren’t heading back to the Durmstrang ship, or to Mount Phoenix’s columned tent.

“Something wrong, Harriet?” Bagman asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Harriet said. “I just… I just remembered I was going to ask Aello something.”

“Shall I wait for you?” Bagman pressed. Harriet was sure he was going to offer her more help with the final task.

“No, that’s alright, Mr Bagman,” Harriet called back.

She hurried off as quietly as she could. She spied Krum and Aello now heading for the greenhouses. What on earth were they up to? Were they going to try and find some sort of herbicide, perhaps? Something to just cut through the hedges of the maze rather than having to take the maze themselves?

Harriet watched from a distance as Krum and Aello tried all the handles of the greenhouses. They were starting to look a bit anxious, glancing around as though afraid of getting caught. Harriet kept peering at them from around the corner of the Mount Phoenix tent.

She knelt, rummaging in her bag as she saw Krum and Aello finally find the first year greenhouse unlocked and hurried inside. Harriet pulled out her invisibility cloak, slipped it on, and made her way down to the greenhouse. She slowed to a creep as she got to within ten feet of the door. Harriet couldn’t see into the greenhouse very well. Apparently the watering system inside had been turned on recently and the inside of the glass walls were all covered in condensation.

Harriet glowered and crossed her arms in frustration after circling the greenhouse. What were they up to in there? She could hear them talking, but not clearly enough to tell what they were saying. Just then, Harriet noticed that the front door was still cracked open ever so slightly. Perhaps, just open enough that she could pull it open without alerting the two inside.

Harriet put her hand on the handle, pulled the door open as quietly as she could, just enough she could stick her head inside.

“You are talking nonsense,” Aello said, sounding frustrated, if not outright angry.

“I am not!” Krum said sounding just as irritated. “Did you think I vould know vork it out? Some of your people supported Grindelvald! Of course I vould recognize an Amazon’s shield!”

Harriet blinked. Amazon? Like the rainforest?

“Yes, but I did not!” Aello shouted, rounding on Krum. “My barracks did not! If you’re going to paint an entire people by the actions of a few then you are just as bad as him!”

Krum looked as though Aello had just punched him. Granted, by the look on Aello’s face, he was in serious danger of that actually happening. And given the fact that Aello stood half a head taller than him, and her arms were twice as big around as his, that was a serious threat.

Krum however stood his ground. “I am not angry vith you, Aello!” Krum declared. “I am not caring that you are an Amazon, I am caring that you did not tell me!”

“I did not tell you because I do not want anyone to know!” Aello shouted back. “No one is to know what I am! Only Professor Cato knows! He let me into the school when I was ordered out by my barracks!”

“Why were you ordered out?” Krum asked.

Aello gave him a look as though he was being the stupidest man alive and spread her arms wide. “Look at me, Viktor? What do you see?”

Viktor balled up his fists. “I see a beautiful, strong woman, who—”

“Shut up!” Aello snarled. “I am black! My mother brought shame when she chose a black man as the father of her child! A suitable mate had been picked out for her but she chose someone she thought more fitting to be her mate, someone she thought stronger, better. To atone, only minutes after my birth she had to fight every member of our barracks in combat, one at a time. She won, and won, until her strength finally gave out and she collapsed after facing our commander, and never rose again. I was allowed to live and remain, but ever since I have had to work twice as hard as the rest to prove myself! I have never been one of them, so they sent me away to Mount Phoenix. I will win this tournament, I will win my glory and have my mother’s honour restored!”

Harriet was about to jump back as Aello moved past Krum and towards the door. However, she stopped when Krum put out a hand and took her arm. Aello looked back at him and Harriet poked her head back inside. Krum wasn’t angry. Instead, his face was full of pain.

“Aello,” he said softly. “I do not care vhat they think of you there. To me, you are extraordinary. You are intelligent, you are strong, you are brave, you are singular. I vill help you in this task, as you helped me vith my grandfather’s amulet.”

Krum and Aello stared at each other for a few moments. Then, without warning, Aello took hold of Krum’s arms, and forced him back against one of the tables of the greenhouse. Their lips locked and Krum’s hands were immediately at work, trying to pull up Aello’s Mount Phoenix robes.

Harriet’s jaw fell open. She kept staring as the pair fumbled around trying to undress each other as their lips remained locked. Slowly, she closed the greenhouse door, still too dumbstruck by what she was just watching to be paying much attention to anything else.

The door shut with the quietest of clicks and Harriet looked up to see where her reflection would be. Instead of her reflection, there was the grinning face of a boy with curly black hair, large, black eyes, and pure white, pointed teeth. The sight of the face froze Harriet in fear.

“’Ello poppet, I’m Jerrad,” the reflection said though the voice came from just behind her ear.

In the reflection, she watched the eyes move down over her body, so hungry she could almost feel them like hands moving over her. With every inch the eyes moved, the horrible, sharp-toothed smile grew.

“ _Very_ nice to meet you…”

Harriet gasped and spun around. As she did, the hood of her cloak slid off her head. There was indeed a boy standing there, but it wasn’t the boy from the reflection. The boy’s hair was soft brown and frazzled, as though it hadn’t been washed in months and was full of sticks and leaves. His face was filthy, covered in scratches and mud. His eyes were blue, and there were enormous bags under them. He had a cut on his lips, but his teeth looked perfectly normal, except for the fact one of his front teeth was missing.

Despite all of this, Harriet recognized the boy now. It was Hyland Stevens, returned at last, and alive. Harriet’s eyes moved further down and she gasped. His body was also covered in dirt and scratches. But that wasn’t all. Apart from the dirt, the boy was completely naked. The first naked boy Harriet had ever seen in her life.

“Hi,” the boy said as though completely unaware of this. “Harriet, right…?”

“Uh, y-yes,” Harriet stammered, doing her best to keep looking Hyland in the eyes instead of much, much lower.

“Thought so,” Hyland said wearily. He looked down at Harriet’s body. “You know you’re just a head, right?”

“It’s, a…”

He looked around the grounds. “How’d I get here… never been here before…” his eyes found the castle. “That looks dangerous, don’t it?”

“Hyland,” Harriet said, her heart still in her throat. “How did you get back here?”

“Dunno,” Hyland said. “Remember seeing fire… then I was standing here. My mouth hurts…” He touched his left hand to his mouth over the missing tooth, then he looked down at his right hand. “Huh, wonder who this is?”

Harriet forced herself to look down again. This time she shrieked. Hyland was holding onto a man’s wrist. Attached to the wrist was an arm, and attached to that arm was a body. The body of Mr Barty Crouch.

Harriet was knocked forward when the door to the greenhouse swung open. Krum and Aello were standing there. Krum’s shirt was on backwards, and Aello was simply holding her robes up over herself.

“Vhat is—vhat the—?!” Krum stammered, taking in the scene.

“Hi,” Hyland said, waving slowly at the pair. “I don’t feel well.”

With that, Hyland’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the spot.

## * * * *

Daniel was furious.

“What were you thinking?!” He said as he paced the rug in the middle of Professor Dumbledore’s office.

Aurora was furious, too.

“How could you just go sneaking out like that?” Aurora asked. Unlike Daniel, she was sitting in a chair, her arms and legs rigidly crossed, her face set in such a deep scowl Harriet was sure she would never smile again.

“I just wanted to know what they were up to,” Harriet half-lied, unable to meet eithers’ eyes.

“Oh no, young lady,” Daniel said, wagging a finger at her. “Oh no you weren’t. You already had your cloak with you, and what were all those apples for?”

Harriet crossed her arms. She was starting to feel incredibly ashamed of herself. Daniel had never been angry with her before. Neither had Aurora. It was making Harriet feel very small, and her defiance was ebbing away. Now was not the time for keeping it bottled in. Now she had to come clean. There was no reason at all for Harriet to lie about this.

“I just… I… I wanted to see them again…”

Daniel paused his pacing.

“See who again?”

“The… the Aigikampoi?” Harriet admitted.

“Aigiwhatsits?” Daniel asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“They’re like… goat-fish… like Capricorn.”

Daniel and Aurora exchanged looks. Clearly neither of them had heard of aigikampoi either.

“I saved one of them… remember that day we took a run, and I fell back a bit?” Harriet said looking at Aurora pleadingly. “Just before the second task…”

Aurora thought. “Yes…?”

“Well, I found a baby one, it’ tail was caught in a branch. I let it go… then in the lake they saved me from Grindylow, twice. They saved you, Cedric and Cho too,” Harriet said looking up at Daniel. She couldn’t help but feel a bit of defiance in her voice now.

Daniel was still looking sceptical, but his expression was starting to soften.

“You know,” Aurora said. “I do recall that there was a real magical creature that Capricorn was based on, I just never knew the name…”

This seemed to finally disarm Daniel. He seemed to diminish, slowly putting his hands in his pockets and taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to Harriet. “Aurora and I just worry about you so much with everything going on, and to hear you snuck out like that and… and could have been attacked… and Hyland turning back into himself from whatever the hell he is when he’s not Hyland!”

“He didn’t hurt me!” Harriet said.

“He was standing there with a half dead Crouch in his hand!”

Harriet winced and put her hand to her forehead. Her scar had just tingled. It was as though hearing someone say “Crouch” angrily had triggered a memory in her head, but it was still incomplete, vague and cloudy.

Daniel hurried over to her at once. He pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace that distracted her completely. Slowly she hugged him back.

“I’m just so worried,” Daniel said resting his hand on the back of Harriet’s head. “Promise me, Harriet… promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Never again.”

Harriet couldn’t remember ever being hugged like this. She felt herself getting emotional as she hugged him tighter. “Never, Daddy,” Harriet replied.

Daniel held on tight even when the door opened.

“Well, Mai says that Crouch will live, and so will Hyland,” Professor Howe announced.

Daniel finally looked up. Professor Howe was walking towards them. “The Minister is here,” Professor Howe cautioned. “We managed to keep him from learning about Hyland. He just think’s Hyland is another student sick in the hospital wing.”

“How is he…?” Daniel asked.

“He’s in a poor way, but he’ll live. Mai says that he has lyme disease, among other ailments, but she can treat him.”

“Good…” Daniel said, sounding genuinely relieved.

“It appears likely that the split side, his other side, is resistant to all of these diseases,” Professor Howe explained. “Unfortunately, his normal side, Hyland, is not… and so when he returned to normal, the myriad ailments and malnutrition quickly overwhelmed him.”

“Has he said anything about where he’s been?” Aurora asked.

“No. He has no memory of anything that’s happened while the split side was awake,” Professor Howe said.

“Jerrad,” Harriet chimed in.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“He… he called himself Jerrad… just before he turned back into Hyland.”

“You saw the split side?” Professor Howe asked with interest.

“Only for a moment… I saw his reflection. I… I think he could see me through the cloak, somehow.”

“Well, next to nothing is known about Split-Men,” Professor Howe admitted. “The extents of their powers are entirely new to us. Regardless, he’ll have a pleasant surprise when he awakes.”

“What’s that?” Harriet asked.

Professor Howe chuckled. “A young woman, Miss Middleton, was exceedingly glad to hear he was alive. Albus successfully persuaded Mai and Poppy to allow her to stay by Hyland’s bedside until he awakes.”

Harriet smiled softly at this thought. Professor Howe looked at his pocket watch.

“Albus should be here in seconds. Remember, Fudge knows nothing about Hyland.”

Harriet, Aurora, and Daniel nodded. Almost on cue, the door opened once more. Professor Dumbledore entered first, followed by the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, and finally Professor Moody.

“This is shocking, simply shocking,” Fudge said, dabbing his forehead. “I knew Barty had issues, but I can’t believe he’s finally gone off his rocker like this!”

“Has he said anything?” Daniel asked.

“Nothing of interest,” Fudge said. “Just keeps going on about something being his fault, and his son.”

Again, Harriet’s forehead twinged and she rubbed her scar as it tingled.

“Well, his son’s death _was_ his fault,” Professor Moody snarled, bitterly.

“Too right,” Daniel agreed.

Harriet hugged him tighter. As the man who sent Sirius to Azkaban without a trial and cost Daniel his job as an Auror, Daniel was certainly no fan of Crouch.

“I don’t know, there is something not right,” Professor Dumbledore said, shaking his head and staring at the ceiling. “You say you’re dispatching Aurors to Mr Crouch’s house?”

“Of course I am, Dumbledore,” Fudge said irritably. “I sent them the moment your message arrived. They should be reporting back to me within the hour. That assistant of his, Weatherby, he’s been called in for questioning as well.”

“Probably a waste of time there,” Professor Moody mused. “And his name’s Weasley. Weatherby was Crouch’s assistant back before his life hit the skids.”

“Right, right, right,” Fudge said waving a hand dismissively. “Neither here nor there. We just need to see how long this has been going on.”

“Yes, indeed…” Professor Howe agreed. However, he was not looking at Fudge. His eyes had settled on Professor Moody, and he was studying him very closely indeed.

“Well, at least we found him safe and… as sound as can be hoped. Sad to see him end his career this way… no possible way we can justify letting him come back to work after this… oh if Rita Skeeter finds out she’s going to have a field day!”

“All this and you’re worrying about Rita Skeeter?” Aurora asked with disgust.

“My dear young lady,” Fudge said, his tone losing its edge, but not it’s condescension, “This is a vulnerable enough time for the Ministry without her turning it into an uproar!”

Daniel rose to his feet now, but Aurora gave him a look and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

“With the aftermath of Kinney’s attack, much of the rest of the wizarding world is looking at us as weak. For centuries, Magical Britain has been the leader of the magical world! Now several countries have pulled their accounts from Gringotts. Then there’s the American Magical Congress getting friendly with Goblins for their support. Scores of Britain’s goblins are considering moving there! There’s talk they’ll even offer the Goblins wands for their assistance in the war! Goblins! With wands!? I ask you!”

The room went very quiet after this. Fudge was in such a temper he didn’t seem to notice. Harriet furrowed her brow studying Fudge. What was wrong with Goblins having wands? Sure, there had been many goblin rebellions, but hadn’t some of those rebellions been because of rules like not giving them wands?

The door to the office opened again. Harriet felt her scowl grow. The auror, Dawlish, who had been assigned to watch Harriet her third year. Dawlish gave Harriet a single glance before walking up to the Minister.

“Minister, they’ve finished their search of Crouch’s house. It looks as though someone has indeed been living there but it looks as though no one has lived there for several days.”

“Well, it would have taken him several days to get here,” Fudge said, seeming to deflate. “They say he didn’t have his wand?”

“No, he did not, Minister,” Dawlish confirmed.

“So he had to have come on foot, which would explain his appearance,” Fudge continued. “You say you found him by the greenhouses, Harriet?”

Harriet started, surprised to be addressed. “Oh, y-yes, Minister. He’d um… he’d collapsed there.”

“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see what he has to say after some proper rest and food,” Fudge sighed, resignedly. “Dawlish, I would like you to remain with Shacklebolt tonight to watch over Crouch.”

“Of course, Minister,” Dawlish replied, sounding as though Fudge had sent him on a mission to retrieve the Holy Grail.

“Well, I better get back to the Ministry,” Fudge said wearily. He followed Dawlish from the room, leaving everyone in silence.

Professor Dumbledore turned his attention to Daniel. “Daniel? I would like you to watch over Bartemius as well.”

Harriet looked from Professor Dumbledore to Daniel, worried. Daniel gave her a kind smile. “It’ll be alright, Harricane.”

“Mr Crouch is still in a great deal of danger,” Professor Dumbledore explained. I trust Daniel and his abilities unequivocally.”

Daniel looked over at Professor Moody. “Mad-Eye?”

“Aye?” Professor Moody grunted.

“Would you keep watch over her, tonight?” Daniel asked, meaning Harriet.

“Course,” Professor Moody said. “Been doin’ that for months now, after all.”

Professor Moody rose and jerked his head towards the door. “Let’s go, Potter.”

Harriet looked from Daniel to Aurora.

“I’ll help Daniel,” Aurora said. “You need sleep, Harriet. You’ve had a long day.”

“Not wrong,” Harriet muttered and finally rose to her feet. She followed Professor Moody, albeit reluctantly, out of the office.

“So,” Professor Moody asked as they headed down the hallway. “Crouch didn’t say anything to you, did he?”

“No,” Harriet shook her head. “He was unconscious when I saw him. In fact, I thought he was dead.” She looked up at Professor Moody. “Why?”

“Hmmm,” Professor Moody mused. “Well let’s just say there’s something very fishy going on… Crouch didn’t have his wand… he fled his house… no one had seen him for weeks… was just sending in owls to his office… it’s more than fishy… I’ll bet you anything Crouch was running from something.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see in the morning?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah, I suppose we will,” Professor Moody muttered.

They continued on in silence until they reached Gryffindor Tower.

“I’ll stay down here in the common room, Potter,” Professor Moody said. “You can go on up to bed. No one will get past me, tonight.”

Harriet nodded, bidding him goodnight. Her mind was overly full. Why had her scar tingled twice tonight, both times Crouch’s name had been mentioned? Not helping things was the fact her mind was still full of what she had seen in the greenhouse, and what she had seen outside the greenhouse.

Her mind swirled a little as she remembered Krum finally pulling off Aello’s robe, revealing Aello’s muscled, powerful body. Then there was Hyland. His figure had not been great, but he was the first boy Harriet had ever seen naked. She had to admit, boys looked a little funny, and yet… she was finding herself starting to seriously wonder if she would feel that way about say Fred, or Finn.

And then there was the talk Krum and Aello had. Aello was an Amazon? What did that mean? Harriet thought she remembered hearing that before, but she couldn’t remember where.

“There you are,” Hermione said cheerfully as Harriet entered the dorm. All of the other girls were getting ready for bed. Hermione’s face fell as she took in Harriet’s expression.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

Harriet took a deep breath. “This is going to take a long time to explain…”

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t know what it was that woke her. It was then that she realized her scar was tingling again. She simply had a feeling deep down in her gut that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Harriet sat up in bed. She rose and walked over to the window. It was still dark outside, but there was just a hint of light on the horizon.

She yawned and stretched. She had been up half the night filling Hermione and Ronnie in on what happened. After a couple months of keeping secrets and telling fibs, it felt quite good for Harriet to be completely honest about what had happened for a change. Unhelpfully, Ronnie had mostly been concerned with Harriet giving a detailed description of how Aello had looked without clothes.

A wave of sleepiness swept over Harriet again. Classes were going to be miserable today on so little sleep.

Harriet stretched more before putting on her robe over her pyjamas. She crept to the door, opened it as quietly as she could, and snuck downstairs. She wanted to see Professor Moody, ask if anything else had changed during the night.

“Morning, Potter,” Professor Moody said as Harriet entered the common room. He’d clearly seen her coming. He sounded exhausted. Clearly, he hadn’t slept all night. Harriet sat in the arm chair next to him as he took a swig from his hipflask.

“Morning,” Harriet replied. “Any news?”

“Not a peep,” Professor Moody said, staring into the fire with his real eyes as the blue false one spun around and around.

“Getting so sick of this,” Harriet grumbled, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her hands, staring into the fire too.

“It’ll all be over soon,” Professor Moody said, much kinder than he usually sounded. “You’ll come out of this on top, and no one will think to challenge you when you do, and you’ll know your own strength, finally.”

“Sir?” Harriet asked.

“That which does not kill you, makes you stronger, Potter,” Professor Moody said. “Always believed in that. Hence the one thing I’ve always concerned myself with is survival. You get through this, think of how strong you’ll be, eh? You’ll have survived some plot we’ve yet to unravel. You’ll have survived the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I don’t say this often, Potter, but after all I’ve seen of you this year, I’m damned proud of you. Damned proud indeed.”

Harriet felt her face get warm, and she was sure it wasn’t because of the crackling fire. Professor Moody was about to say more when the portrait hole swung open. Harriet’s heart swelled as she saw Daniel climb through, however, it fell at once when she saw the look on his face.

“What happened?” Professor Moody asked.

“It’s Crouch,” Daniel said, “he’s dead.”

“What?!” Harriet gasped.

Daniel set his jaw before he continued. “Mai says it was a heart attack but Severus says it was murder… Aconite… Wolfsbane… he found traces in Crouch’s water.”

Daniel took a breath. “He’s dead… someone killed him right under our noses… somehow someone snuck past all three of us and poisoned him…”


	36. A Pensive Revelation

“History can never repeat itself. Not in a literal sense. However, the past’s shadows are always with us, and always whisper warnings to those who have the patience and perception to listen.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet felt distinctly disgruntled. She was the one who found Crouch in the first place, yet Daniel had sent her back to bed while he and Mad-Eye went off to help hunt down the killer. Sent to bed like some petulant child while the grown-ups solved the problems.

Just around the time they were to wake up for classes, Professor McGonagall’s voice echoed through the school, announcing that classes were cancelled for the day. Harriet knew that most likely the staff were all either being questioned, or assisting in the hunt.

Many of the students had cheered. Most of them went right back to sleep. Harriet felt sick. She knew no one else knew about what had happened, and while she had not particularly liked Crouch, he had still been a person. And now he was dead.

Harriet didn’t try to go back to sleep right away. Instead, she found herself sitting in the common room with only Hermione, Ronnie, Kieran, and Marcus, explaining everything that had happened.

“They found him dead,” Marcus blinked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Someone got past all those people and killed him? Without any of them noticing? That’s just…”

“Gooooooood morning, Gryffindor!” came Fred’s jovial voice from the boys’ dormitory staircase as he and George entered the common room.

“Well, five of them, anyway,” George observed, waving at Harriet and the rest.

“What’s good about it?” Harriet muttered darkly.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Fred asked, his cheerful demeanour vanishing at once as he took in Harriet’s disgruntled face.

“Well, there’s been another murder, for one,” Hermione said, exasperated.

Fred and George’s eyebrows both snapped halfway up their foreheads.

“Who-the-what-now? Another murder?” George asked. “Who?”

“Mr Crouch,” Kieran replied.

Fred and George exchanged looks. “Barmy…” they both said in unison.

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed.

“Where? How?” George asked.

“Poor Perce… he’s going to be in a right state…” Fred shook his head.

Harriet looked at Fred with some surprise. He’d never spoken about Percy in such a kind tone before.

“He was killed right here, in the school,” Hermione explained for George.

“You’re kidding?!” Fred exclaimed.

“Nope,” Marcus shook his head sadly.

“They know who did it yet?” George asked.

“Dunno,” Harriet sighed. “Daniel wouldn’t let me come when they went to investigate. They’re probably searching the school right now and questioning all the staff…”

Fred sat beside Harriet, putting an arm around her shoulder. Despite the weight of his arm, Harriet felt lighter as he pulled her close, as if a ton of worry was dropping off her. Unfortunately, it was taking her eyelids with it as she suddenly had a hard time keeping them open. She couldn’t have slept more than two or three hours.

“Well, suppose there’s nothing we can do about that,” Fred admitted, hugging Harriet tighter.

“How can you say that?” Harriet asked, looking up at Fred.

Fred grimaced and shrugged. “Well… there isn’t…” he explained. “Crouch is already dead… can’t bring him back to life. The staff and the Ministry will look for who did it and find them. It’s something you don’t need to worry about now.”

“But I… I found him,” Harriet said, only partly true. “He made it here to Hogwarts, he was supposed to be safe—”

“Hey, hey,” Fred interrupted, though his tone was kind and soft. He gently cupped Harriet’s cheek, turning her head to look deep in his eyes.

She stared at him for a moment. Whether it was her exhaustion or not, Harriet wasn’t sure. All she knew was that for some reason, in that moment, Fred looked very handsome. His expression was kind, yet strong. His face was so symmetrical, even the freckles looked perfectly mirrored either side of his face. His eyes were a soft blue. Unbidden, images of what she’d seen only the night before snuck into her mind.

“Uh, you two need a room?” Ronnie asked, causing Marcus to snigger.

Harriet jumped, coming back to her senses. Fred took his hand from her cheek, rubbing the back of his head, much as Mr Weasley did when he was feeling awkward.

“So, yeah,” Fred said lamely. “Nothing we can do about that… all we have to worry about is getting you through the remaining task, right?”

“Very right, Fred,” Hermione agreed. “And I have some thoughts.”

Hermione was off at once, discussing ideas for which spells would be most helpful. Harriet looked up towards the stairway to her dormitory. Her bed was waiting there, nice and warm. Harriet looked back at Hermione who was starting to draw a diagram on a piece of parchment, and sighed.

## * * * *

Many hours later the sun was setting, and Harriet was once more cuddled against Fred’s side as he, George, Erica, and Lee Jordan talked about Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in front of the fireplace. Harriet still had not gotten any sleep, and her eyelids were drooping.

“The difficult part will be getting the hat to make the head go invisible, instead of just the hat,” she half-heard George mutter.

“The trick will be in getting the hat to be what casts the spell, rather than enchanting the hat itself,” Erica observed.

“Need some sleep?” Fred whispered to Harriet. Her head had just drooped onto his shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, not yet…” Harriet replied.

Fred chuckled and softly kissed the top of her head. Harriet smiled. It sent a little shiver of excitement through her body as he did. Harriet cuddled up to him tighter, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

Harriet was flying. At first, she thought she was flying on her own, but when she looked down she saw she was riding on the back of a giant eagle owl. No, the owl was normal size, it was Harriet who was very small.

The owl was heading towards an old, ivy-covered house on top of a hill. It was exhilarating, soaring on its soft, feathery back. It was a smoother ride than even on her _Firebolt_. The owl started swooping down, heading toward a dark, broken window on the top floor of the derelict house. The owl passed with ease through the open window, turning down a long, unlit hallway.

There was a half-open door at the end of the hall, with a dim light of a fire crackling from inside. The owl entered the room and Harriet slid off its back, floating in place as the owl landed on the back of a tattered old chair facing the fireplace, dropping a letter into its depth.

Harriet’s chest clenched. She recognized that chair. She recognized this room. She had been in this room before, when she overheard Lord Voldemort and Wormtail last summer.

There was a whimper from the floor and Harriet looked down. Wormtail was there, cowering on the hearthrug in front of the chair. Beside him was the massive snake Lord Voldemort had called Nagini.

“You are in luck, Wormtail,” Lord Voldemort’s high, cold voice called from the chair. “You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything after all. He is dead.”

“My Lord!” Wormtail gasped. “My Lord, I am… I am so pleased… and so, so sorry!”

“Nagini,” said Lord Voldemort, “you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you after all… but never mind, never mind… if Crouch is right, you will soon have all the food you could ever desire. If Crouch is wrong, you’ll be feeding on Harriet Potter _and_ Crouch in mere weeks.”

“ _Thank you, my Looooooord,_ ” Nagini hissed with indecent hunger.

“Now, Wormtail, perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you…”

“My Lord… no… I beg you…”

Harriet saw the tip of a wand emerge from the chair, pointing at Wormtail.

“ _Crucio_.”

Wormtail screamed, his cries piercing the air. It sounded as though Lord Voldemort had set Wormtail on fire. As Harriet watched in horror, her own scar began to burn, and the next thing she knew, Harriet herself was screaming.

“Harriet! _Harriet!_ ”

Harriet gasped as she opened her eyes. She was lying on the couch, her hands pressed against her forehead. Her eyes were watering from the lingering pain in her scar. Dozens of faces were looking down on her. She saw Kieran was the closest, leaning right over her, trying to pull her hands away from her forehead. Fred was just behind him. His face was so pale Harriet couldn’t even make out his freckles.

“You alright?” Ronnie asked, biting her lip, full of anxiety.

Her words did not really register to Harriet. Instead, her mind was racing. She remembered. She could remember the dream. She remembered Lord Voldemort speaking to someone he called Crouch.

A son. Last night, the grown-ups had said Mr Crouch had a son. But they’d also said his son was dead, hadn’t they? But the man in the dream was a younger man, definitely not the Crouch she knew. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Harriet had to talk to Professor Dumbledore. She forced herself to her feet as fast as she could. Her head swam slightly and Kieran tried to make her sit back down.

“Can’t,” Harriet said. “Have to see Professor Dumbledore!”

People tried to move out of her way but they weren’t fast enough. Harriet shoved many aside and finally broke through to the portrait hole. She pushed it open as fast as she could and ran full speed towards Professor Dumbledore’s office.

She could remember. Finally, she remembered. The man called Crouch in the dream had been watching her. He said he knew her. Harriet had to tell Professor Dumbledore.

“Potter!” she heard Professor McGonagall call after her in surprise and anger as Harriet ran past her.

Harriet didn’t break stride. Her lungs were burning as she finally skidded to a halt in front of the gargoyle which guarded the passage to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“Sherbet lemon!” Harriet said, catching her breath.

The gargoyle didn’t move.

“Ok,” Harriet muttered, thinking. “Pear Drop! Er—liquorice wand! Fizzing Whizzbee! Drooble’s Best—”

“Harriet Potter!” she heard Professor McGonagall calling. Harriet paid no attention as Professor McGonagall finally caught up. She sounded out of breath as well, and her forehead was so furrowed up in anger her eyebrows were almost touching.

“I have to see Professor Dumbledore!” Harriet explained, her shoulders heaving in her desperation. “Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum!”

“What is this all about, Miss Potter?” Professor McGonagall said putting her hands on her hips, pretending she wasn’t as winded as she was.

“I remembered the dream! A really bad dream! There’s a Voldemort supporter hiding here in Hogwarts! I have to tell Professor Dumbledore!”

As with most everyone in the Wizarding World, Professor McGonagall flinched at the sound of Lord Voldemort’s name, but she overlooked it. Instead, Professor McGonagall studied Harriet closely, and sceptically. Then, to Harriet’s great surprise, she turned to the Gargoyle.

“Cockroach Cluster,” Professor McGonagall said.

The gargoyle leapt aside. Harriet looked up at Professor McGonagall, disgust and amusement on her face. “Cockroach Cluster?”

Professor McGonagall simply sighed and rolled her eyes in an ever suffering way before gesturing for Harriet to head up the spiralling staircase. Harriet thanked Professor McGonagall, making a mental note in her head to buy Professor McGonagall a nice gift as soon as she could.

Harriet ran up the steps, despite the fact they rose on their own. She was just about to start pounding on the door when it opened and she found herself looking up into the smiling face of Professor Howe.

“Ah, I had a hunch those were your delicate footfalls ascending towards us,” Professor Howe chortled as he stepped aside for Harriet to enter.

Harriet stepped past him, looking around. Professor Dumbledore was standing by his desk. Next to him was Cornelius Fudge and his Auror shadow, Dawlish. To her left was Professor Moody, and to her right, Professor Snape.

“Ah, Harriet,” Fudge said in a forced kindly tone. “How are you?”

“I… well, I really need to speak to you, Professor,” Harriet said turning to Professor Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore gave Harriet a searching look but Fudge cleared his throat, awkwardly.

“Ah, well, the headmaster and I were just about to head into the grounds to see how the search is coming along.”

“We will not be long, Harriet. You may wait here for our return,” Professor Dumbledore said.

Harriet bit her lip. This was too important to wait.

“I’ll keep her company while you’re gone,” Professor Howe declared cheerfully.

“Are you sure?” Fudge asked, surprised. “You of all people, I thought, would like to examine the evidence and hear the—”

“Oh no, Fudge, my good man, I’ve already heard all I need I should think. You all have fun.”

Fudge gave Professor Howe a quizzical look. However, it was Dawlish’s look that surprised Harriet the most. The look he was giving Professor Howe was downright suspicious.

Professor Dumbledore smiled over at Professor Moody. “Will you be joining us, Alastor? Your eye could certainly come in handy.”

“Right you are, Albus,” Professor Moody replied, grunting as he got to his mismatched feet, leaning on his walking stick.

“I will join you as well, Headmaster,” Professor Snape chimed in.

“Excellent. We’ll be perhaps an hour or so,” Professor Dumbledore informed Harriet and Professor Howe, before the group began to file from the room.

Professor Moody, being closest to the door, was the first one out. Harriet didn’t see how it happened, but as Professor Moody passed, he and Professor Howe bumped shoulders.

“Oops,” Professor Howe grunted.

“Watch it,” Professor Moody snarled before making his way out of the room.

Professor Howe simply smiled in reply as Professor Moody moved from sight. Professor Dumbledore passed next, then Fudge and Dawlish. Once more, Dawlish’s look surprised Harriet. Whereas just a minute ago he had been suspicious, he now gave Professor Howe a rather impressed look. Harriet shook her head, not sure what to make of it. She wasn’t sure if Professor Howe saw. He instead was sharing a significant look with Professor Snape as they passed.

Professor Howe now turned to smile down at Harriet. “Now, you had something very important to tell us?”

“Yes! There’s someone working for Voldemort here at Hogwarts! Voldemort’s back!”

“Ahhh yes,” Professor Howe nodded. He put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder, guiding her to Professor Dumbledore’s desk. “That’s something that Albus and I have been both afraid of, and sure of, for a while. The difficulty has been in deciphering who.”

“Have you?”

“I think I have…”

“Then why haven’t you caught—”

“Harriet, Harriet, please listen and understand,” Professor Howe said. His tone was not harsh. Quite the opposite in fact as he knelt in front of her to look her straight on.

“Finding a spy is not that easy. There are a myriad of problems to consider. You have to be absolutely sure you have the right person before you act. If you pounce too soon and catch the wrong person, the real one can slip away and you’ll have lost everything.”

Harriet opened her mouth to respond, closed it again, and nodded.

“What’s important for you now is to understand what’s going on… and for that, we need to take a little journey down memory lane.”

“Memory lane?”

“Sorry, an awful joke.”

Professor Howe crossed to one of Professor Dumbledore’s cabinets. He opened its doors and removed a large stone basin from within. She recognized it at once. It was the same strange basin that Professor Howe had locked in the cabinet Harriet’s second year. Once more, the basin was full of the same strange blue mist.

“Sir…?” Harriet asked, looking at the basin.

“This is called a Pensieve, Harriet,” Professor Howe explained. “An incredibly rare artefact—In fact this may be the only one left in the world.”

“What does it do? And what’s that stuff in it?”

“It stores memories.”

“Ohhhhhhh, so that’s what those are? Memories?”

“Correct. They are Professor Dumbledore’s in point of fact.”

Harriet felt a strong sense of apprehension. The last time she had seen someone else’s memories, they had been those of the teenage Lord Voldemort.

Professor Howe gave Harriet an encouraging smile. “Oh there’s nothing to be afraid of with these memories. Though admittedly they are not happy ones.”

“What are they about?”

“About a dark time in the Wizarding World…” Professor Howe sighed. “But a necessary one for you to understand.”

“I don’t see how this is helping us catch whoever the Voldemort supporter here is…”

“Oh you will, you will,” Professor Howe said giving Harriet a significant look. “I’m guessing you’re here because you had another dream like last summer?”

“Yes! And not just that, I just remembered another one I’d had. I had it the night I got sick and went to stay with Daniel, Remus, and Sirius for a week in the Shrieking Shack. It was Lord Voldemort and Wormtail and another guy named Crouch…”

Professor Howe tightened his lips. He looked as though Harriet had just confirmed something for him, yet he wasn’t happy in being correct.

“Yes… I first got my suspicions about that last night…” Professor Howe said sadly. “Now… let’s take that aforementioned journey.”

“How, sir?”

“Just lean down low over the memories, till your nose just about touches.”

Harriet wasn’t so sure about this, but she knew Professor Howe had never led her into danger before. Slowly, she leaned down over the basin. The mist continued to swirl and twist around the basin as she got closer. It had no smell that she could detect, or any sense of moisture.

Then, it happened. The mist became transparent and Harriet could see a dimly lit room. Harriet gasped. She recognized the room. How could she ever forget it? It was the old courtroom where Sirius’ trial had taken place. There was the same chained chair in the centre of the room, and the walls lined with benches full of witches and wizards in dark robes and hats.

Harriet looked up at Professor Howe. He gave her a grim nod, urging her on. Harriet lowered her head back to the basin. Once more, the mist turned into a sort of window as Harriet’s face got close enough. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and lowered her face the rest of the way.

Harriet gasped again. However, there was nothing she could do now. She had lurched forward and was half falling, half floating down towards the room. Harriet cried out but before she knew it, she was sitting, safely, on a wooden seat. Harriet slowly opened her eyes. She was sitting in the stands where the judges had been sitting. She didn’t recognize any of the faces. At least not at first. Harriet looked to the wizard sitting to her right and jumped. It was Professor Dumbledore.

“Professor!” Harriet gasped, trying to catch her breath. “I thought you were searching the grounds?”

“He is,” came the voice of Professor Howe.

Harriet spun around to her other side, again feeling her heart jump as she saw Professor Howe sitting right beside her.

“But…” Harriet looked back to Professor Dumbledore.

“That’s Albus from the past, at the time of this memory,” Professor Howe explained. “We’re now on the 28th of November 1981—Ahh!” He smiled and pointed just past Professor Dumbledore. “Look, there’s me.”

Harriet leaned forward to look. Her eyebrows rose quite high. It was indeed a younger Professor Howe. To herself Harriet had to admit, Professor Howe, fourteen years younger, was rather hot. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was dark-brown, slicked back and much shorter than present Professor Howe’s. He looked very fit in his well-tailored shirt and slacks.

“And look, another familiar face,” Professor Howe observed, pointing to the man sitting next to young him.

Something about the man looked familiar, but Harriet could not quite place him. He had a short, well-kept beard, and his hair was blonde. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, which admittedly made young Howe look rather shabby by comparison.

“You know him today as Professor Morrisey,” Professor Howe explained.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Harriet nodded, recognizing him now.

“And just behind me is another familiar face.”

Harriet blinked. Despite the differences, there was no mistaking Professor Moody. He had two normal eyes in this time, and was missing a few of his more noticeable scars.

“Ironically, it was a lot more dangerous hunting death-eaters after Voldemort fell, rather than before.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, they had a lot more to lose after that.”

Harriet looked around.

“Where’s Daniel?”

“Not here, alas,” Professor Howe explained. “He was already boycotting these proceedings in his protest over the fate of dear Sirius—shhh!”

Harriet listened. She could hear footsteps approaching. The doors opened and Harriet felt her stomach clench. Three figures entered; a man being half-dragged by two towering dementors. The man they were dragging looked about to faint. Harriet didn’t blame him.

The dementors placed the main into the same chair where Sirius had sat during his release. As with Sirius, the chains glowed and sprang to life, binding the man to the chair.

“Another unfortunate familiar face,” Professor Howe sighed.

“Huh?”

Professor Howe pointed. “Igor Karkaroff. Late headmaster of Durmstrang.”

Harriet blinked. It was Karkaroff. Remembering the night of the World Cup, Harriet’s sympathies for him diminished quickly.

“Igor Karkaroff,” called a curt voice.

Harriet looked to her left. There was another terribly familiar face. It was a younger Mr Crouch. He had some colour left in his hair at this point, though he still kept his hair immaculately parted, and his moustache unnaturally straight and tidy. Even worse, behind the moustache and the age-lines in the face, Harriet could see the resemblance to the young man in the dream.

“You have been brought from Azkaban to give evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us.”

Karkaroff did his best to sit upright in the chair.

“I have, sir,” Karkaroff replied. His voice sounded frail, and he was trembling. “I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I—I know that the Ministry is trying to—to round up the last of the Dark Lord’s supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can…”

The judges murmured amongst themselves. Many of them looked interested, but just as many seemed sceptical.

“Filth…”

Harriet looked around. Professor Moody was leaning down to Professor Dumbledore.

“This whole show is a farce. Crouch is going to let him out. He already made a deal with him for names. Took me six months to track him down and Crouch is just going to let him off if he gives enough new names.”

“I believe it was me who tracked him down, Mad-Eye. You just did the dirty work,” young Howe corrected.

Professor Moody opened his mouth to retort but Professor Dumbledore sniffed and both men fell silent.

“You say you have names for us, Karkaroff,” Mr Crouch continued. “Let us hear them, please.”

Karkaroff swallowed, speaking quickly. “You must understand, that He Who Must Not Be Named operated always in the greatest secrecy… he preferred that we—I mean to say, his supporters—and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them—”

“Get on with it,” sneered Professor Moody.

“—we never knew the names of every one of our fellows—he alone knew exactly who we all were—”

“A wise move,” Professor Morrisey conceded.

“Yet you say you have _some_ names for us?” Crouch asked.

“I—I do,” Karkaroff replied. He still sounded breathless. “And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely—”

“These names are?” Crouch asked, starting to sound impatient at Karkaroff’s pandering.

Karkaroff fell silent and swallowed. He then took a deep breath.

“There was Antonin Dolohov. I—I saw him torture countless Muggles and—and non-supporters of the Dark Lord.”

“And helped him do it,” Professor Moody muttered.

“Shhh,” Professor Morrisey hissed.

“We have already apprehended Dolohov,” Crouch replied. “He was caught shortly after yourself.”

“Indeed?” said Karkaroff. He looked shocked at first, then recovered himself. “I—I am delighted to hear it!”

He certainly did not sound delighted. One of his names was worthless. Harriet could tell Karkaroff was on tenterhooks now.

“Any others?” Crouch pressed.

“Why, yes… there was Rosier,” Karkaroff said quickly. “Evan Rosier.”

“Rosier is dead,” said Crouch. “He was caught shortly after you were, too. He preferred to fight rather than coming quietly, and was killed in the struggle.”

“Took a piece of me with him, though,” Professor Moody chuckled, indicating the large chunk that had been taken out of his nose to Professor Dumbledore.

Harriet felt like someone had punched her in the gut. Dora’s mother’s maiden name was Rosier. She looked around at Professor Howe, who simply sighed and nodded, confirming Harriet’s fears.

“Her brother,” Professor Howe mouthed before Karkaroff began speaking once more.

“No—no more than Rosier deserved!” Karkaroff continued, though he now sounded more panicked than ever. Two of his names were worthless.

“Any more?” Crouch asked.

“Yes!” Karkaroff went on eagerly. “There was Travers—he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber—he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He Who Must Not Be Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!”

This time Karkaroff had struck pay dirt. At the mention of Rookwood, the crowd of judges began murmuring and gasping in shock.

“Rookwood?” Crouch asked, looking taken aback himself, before he nodded to the court scribe before him, who began scribbling down notes even faster than before.

“Augustus Rookwood, of the Department of Mysteries?”

“The very same!” Karkaroff replied. His face looked alive once more. Even he realized that he had finally given them something worthwhile. “I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information—”

“Very well, but Travers and Mulciber we have,” Mr Crouch said, returning to his stern demeanour. “If that is all, Karkaroff, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide—”

“Not yet!” Karkaroff cried out, his desperation returning. “Wait, I have more!”

The room fell deathly silent at this.

“Snape! Severus Snape!”

Harriet gasped but Professor Howe put a calming hand on her arm.

“Snape has been cleared by this council,” Crouch said, his tone still cold. “He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore.”

“No!” Karkaroff cried, straining at the chains. “I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!”

Beside her, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. “I have given evidence already on this matter,” he said to the gathered judges. “Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort’s downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am.”

Harriet looked to the group on the other side of Professor Dumbledore. Young Professor Howe and Morrisey did not look the least bit surprised at this. Professor Moody, however, had a look of deep scepticism on his face as he studied the back of Professor Dumbledore’s head.

“Very well, Karkaroff,” Crouch spoke up, sternly. “You have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime…”

The sound of Crouch’s voice faded. All around her, the dungeon and everyone except for her and present Professor Howe began to dissolve as if made of mist.

“What’s happening?” Harriet asked.

“On to another memory,” Professor Howe explained.

“So, Professor Snape—”

“That is a matter between Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore,” Professor Howe interrupted.

Harriet swallowed and dropped the subject at once. He did not sound upset, but there was such finality to his tone that Harriet felt admonished all the same.

Harriet was distracted from that awkward moment when the room returned to solid. This time, she and Professor Howe were sitting to the left side of Crouch. Instantly, Harriet could detect a change in the mood. The atmosphere seemed much lighter now, if not downright cheerful. The judges, instead of waiting intently, were all acting rather relaxed and talking casually with each other. If Harriet didn’t know better, she’d say they seemed excited.

Harriet did get a jolt of panic as she spotted another terribly familiar face. Even a decade and a half younger, there was no mistaking Rita Skeeter. Her hair was short, and she was wearing magenta robes as she sucked the end of her Qwik-Quotes Quill. Harriet wondered if this was before or after she and Professor Sutler had split up.

Harriet scanned the crowd. She found she was sitting right next to Professor Dumbledore again, as well as Professor Moody and Howe. Professor Morrisey was absent this time. Mr Crouch looked even fiercer now than he had for Karkaroff’s trial. That was not all that was different. The stands were now much fuller than before. There was scarcely room on any of the benches.

The door opened, and to Harriet’s great surprise, Ludo Bagman entered. Unlike Karkaroff, he was not being flanked by two Dementors. Furthermore, he looked quite unlike the Bagman that Harriet knew. He lacked his paunch, and his arms and chest were well muscled. He also had not had his nose broken yet.

Bagman apprehensively sat in the chair. She was sure he was afraid of the chains springing up and binding him to the chair as they had Karkaroff and Sirius. However, the chains did not move, and Bagman seemed to take heart from this. He gave a soft smile and even waved at a couple of the surrounding judges.

“Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters,” Crouch declared, bringing the court to silence. “We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?”

Harriet couldn’t believe it. Sure, Ludo Bagman was a gambling swindler, but a Death Eater? Surely not.

Bagman smiled awkwardly, “Only—well—I know I’ve been a bit of an idiot.”

Several of the judges smiled at this. However, Crouch’s expression only hardened.

“You never spoke a truer word, boy,” Harriet heard Professor Moody’s scratchy voice speak out. “If I didn’t know he’d always been dim, I’d say some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain…”

“Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort’s supporters,” Crouch announced. “For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than—”

At once, an uproar came from the surrounding benches. More than a few of the judges, arguing incoherently in the noise with Crouch.

“But I’ve told you, I had no idea!” Bagman shouted over the din. “None at all! Rookwood was an old friend of my dad’s! It never crossed my mind he was in league with You-Know-Who!”

“Never crossed yours either till Karkaroff outed him,” young Professor Howe muttered under his breath, giving Crouch a dark look.

The real Professor Howe sighed. “Nor mine, if I’m being honest with myself.”

“I thought I was collecting information for our side!” Bagman continued. And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on… once my Quidditch days are over, you know… I mean, I can’t keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?”

Quite a few people in the crowd laughed at this.

“It will be put to the vote,” Crouch declared. “Those in favour of imprisonment, raise your hands.”

Harriet looked around. Not a single judge raised their hand. Slowly, the gathered audience began to clap, growing louder with each passing second. One witch amongst the judges rose.

“Yes?” Crouch barked, downright unpleasantly.

“We’d just like to congratulate Mr Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday,” the witch said, breathless at addressing Ludo Bagman directly.

Crouch’s face twisted with rage. The noise of the crowd was starting to hurt Harriet’s ears now. Bagman rose from his chair, bowing low to the audience with a flourish.

“Despicable,” Crouch spat at Professor Dumbledore. He sat, looking out with exasperation as Bagman walked from the room. “Rookwood get him a job indeed… the day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a very sad day for the Ministry…”

And again, the scene began to change. Harriet studied this scene closely. It was the polar opposite to the previous memory. She was once more sitting beside Professors Dumbledore, Howe, and Moody.

The atmosphere was heavy, even in the memory. No one was speaking. The only sound Harriet could hear was a whimpering sob. Harriet looked past Crouch to see a frail looking woman. She was giving dry sobs into a handkerchief, rocking back and forth, and her hands were trembling.

Crouch himself looked even older. His hair was greyer than before, and his skin sallower and sunken on his face. Looking around at Professor Howe, he did not look much older in this memory than before. Not that much time could have passed between memories, yet the change in Crouch was considerable.

Crouch did not stand this time as he called: “Bring them in.”

The doors opened. Harriet clenched her hands, fighting back the sense of fear rising in her at the sight of six dementors floating into the room. They were flanking a group of four people. As the group entered, the surrounding crowd began to whisper, and many glanced up at Crouch.

As the dementors and their captives moved into the centre of the room, Harriet noted there were four chairs. The dementors forced the prisoners into the chairs, and as with Karkaroff, the chains all sprang to life, binding them down.

Harriet studied them. One man was huskily built, and just stared blankly at Crouch. Another was thinly built, with sharp, alert eyes that darted around the crowd, as if trying to memorize every face, his expression cold and malicious. The third was a woman, who had thick, shiny black hair, and heavily hooded eyes. Unlike the other two men, she sat in the chair as if it were a throne, without a care in the world.

The final of the four was a boy in his late teens, who could have scarcely just graduated Hogwarts. Unlike the other three, he looked nearly petrified with terror. He was shivering, and his skin milky white. His features were difficult to make out, as his straw-coloured hair had fallen in his face. Next to Crouch, the thin woman began to sob harder and rock faster than before.

Crouch rose. Harriet shrank back from him slightly as he did so. The look on his face as he took in the four was nothing less than hatred.

“You four have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgement on you, for a crime so heinous—”

“Father,” said the boy. “Father… please…”

Harriet’s eyes sprang wide open. Somehow it was as though the hair on the boy’s face had turned transparent. She recognized him clearly. He was the one from the dream. He was older in the dream, but unmistakable.

“—that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court,” Crouch continued, apparently immune to his son’s pleas. “We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror—Frank Longbottom—and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He Who Must Not Be Named—”

“Father, I didn’t!” Crouch’s son cried out, straining against the chains. “I didn’t, I swear it, Father, don’t send me back to the Dementors—”

“You are further accused,” Crouch bellowed over his son’s pleading, “of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom’s wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He Who Must Not Be Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury—”

“Mother!” Crouch’s son cried, looking from Crouch to the woman beside Crouch. The woman broke down completely. “Mother, stop him, Mother, I didn’t do it, it wasn’t me!”

“I now ask the jury,” shouted Crouch, “to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!”

The verdict was the complete opposite of Bagman’s trial. Not a single hand stayed down. As with Bagman’s trial, the audience applauded, but it was a chilling applause. There was no joy in the clapping, simply grim satisfaction.

“No! Mother, no! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know! Don’t send me there, don’t let him!”

The Dementors returned. The chains fell away and all three of Crouch’s son’s companions rose calmly. They seemed no more concerned than if they were getting ready to go out shopping.

However, the woman did have some parting words for Crouch.

“The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban, we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!”

Crouch’s son was writhing and struggling against the Dementors as they dragged him from the room. Little by little, his efforts faded as the effect of the Dementors sapped him of the will to resist. He gave one last, desperate look at Crouch.

“I’m your son!” he screamed. “I’m your son!”

“You are no son of mine!” bellowed Crouch. “I have no son!”

There was a scrambling beside Crouch as several witches and wizards moved towards his wife, who had fainted. Crouch was so furious he didn’t even notice.

“Take them away!” Crouch roared at the Dementors, almost frothing at the mouth. “Take them away, and may they rot there!”

Crouch’s son continued to plead, his voice audible even as he was pulled into the corridor outside the courtroom.

“And with that, I think it’s time we returned,” Professor Howe said.

He took hold of Harriet’s arm just above the elbow. As one, they began to rise out of the court room as it dissolved back into mist. They floated upwards, into blackness.

## * * * *

Harriet staggered slightly, catching her balance on the edge of Professor Dumbledore’s desk. Meanwhile, Professor Howe was returning the Pensieve to its cabinet. He turned back to Harriet, his expression still grim.

Harriet’s mind, meanwhile, was embroiled in thought. That boy in the last trial. The Longbottoms. There couldn’t be that many families named Longbottom in the world.

“That… that was the boy—er, man—from my dream!” Harriet said, meaning Crouch’s son. “He was… but last night they said he was dead!”

“Yes, that is the story,” Professor Howe said. “I believed it myself for many years… until I heard some odd statements that piqued my curiosity.”

“Sir?”

“Well… first was dear old Mad-Eye’s outrage over Crouch’s son’s death, and it being Crouch’s fault. Does anything about that strike you as odd, based on what we’ve just seen?”

Harriet thought. “Well… Mad—I mean Professor Moody—did seem pretty convinced Karkaroff was guilty, but he didn’t say anything about Bagman.”

“Moody never brought in someone I didn’t point him towards,” Professor Howe explained. “He was always one hundred percent sure of the guilt of his targets. Including the four we just witnessed being sentenced. Granted much of that had to do with the pairing of him and I as a team.”

“Is that why you two fell out, sir?” Harriet asked. “Because you left and he couldn’t be so certain anymore?”

“Mad-Eye never much cared for ‘quitters’,” Professor Howe explained. “Daniel was at least driven out by the Ministry, so he never placed much blame there. But I suppose my deserting him was a bit too much.”

Harriet bit her lip as she thought.

“Well, it was a long time ago… with Crouch and his son… maybe he changed his mind…?”

Professor Howe chortled. “You don’t know Mad-Eye.”

“But I—”

“No, I mean it. You really _don’t_ know Mad-Eye.”

Harriet stared at Professor Howe. What was he getting at?

“But, if Crouch’s son is dead… how am I seeing him in these dreams things? Especially since I know I’ve never seen him outside the visions and the… memory-whatever?”

“Because Albus and I believe they are not in fact dreams,” Professor Howe explained, leaning back on Professor Dumbledore’s desk. “We believe they are visions.”

“Visions?”

“Correct.”

“Then… if Crouch’s son is dead… how am I seeing him in these visions?”

“Because there is a connection between you and Lord Voldemort, forged the moment he gave you that scar, as I know Albus has already explained to you in the past,” Professor Howe said, pointing to Harriet’s forehead. “It has grown stronger as Lord Voldemort himself has grown stronger. You are now not only aware of when he is near you, you can feel and even see him when his emotions are heightened and his guards are down.”

“I…I can read Lord Voldemort’s mind?”

“Something like that… something useful, and very dangerous, Harriet. Very dangerous indeed.”

“Why dangerous?”

“Because what if Lord Voldemort discovers that he can see into your mind in return?”

Harriet’s knees felt a bit weak again. Lord Voldemort could see into her mind too if he wanted? Her body quaked a little in the horror of realizing how many secrets Lord Voldemort could find out.

“Anyway,” Professor Howe said, checking his watch. “Getting back to the most pressing topic at hand, the other tip-off was when Mad-Eye corrected Fudge about the name of Crouch’s assistant. Why would Mad-Eye care to remember what the name of Crouch’s assistant was fifteen years ago? And how would he know the name of Crouch’s current assistant?”

“I… well…”

“But there is one person who would certainly know both. Bartemius Crouch, Jr, was reported dead almost exactly one year after being sent to Azkaban. The day before Crouch, Jr died, his father and mother paid him a visit. Mere days after that, his mother died. A rather strong coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I… I guess…?” Harriet shrugged.

Professor Howe sighed crossing his arms. “It’s flimsy, but it is a connection. Now tell me, Harriet, that map you have, the one your father and his friends made.”

“Y-yes?” Harriet stammered, awkwardly. How did Professor Howe know about that?

Professor Howe glanced at his pocket watch, frowned, and pocketed it again. “Have you ever seen the name Bartemius Crouch appear on the map? Somewhere he shouldn’t be?”

Harriet gasped. “Yes!” she said. “I saw him in Professor Snape’s office one night! So, the map… it just says Bartemius Crouch, whether father or son?”

Again, Professor Howe’s expression looked satisfied, and yet displeased. “Yes… And Severus reported some missing ingredients from his stores one night… the ingredients necessary for Polyjuice Potion.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. “So… there _is_ a spy here, under Polyjuice Potion? But it only lasts an hour.”

“Unless one takes it every hour, on the hour,” Professor Howe explained, glancing at his pocket watch again.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

“Well,” Professor Howe muttered again putting away the watch. “If I’m wrong… I simply played a silly prank on an old colleague. If I’m right…”

At that moment, there was a terrible cry of pain. It was distant, but distinct, as though from the corridor leading to Professor Dumbledore’s office.

“I’m right.” Professor Howe said at once, drawing his wand. He pointed at Harriet and his face was the most serious Harriet had ever seen it. “Stay. Right. Here.”

Harriet could only nod as Professor Howe hurried from the room. Harriet was thoroughly confused, and more than a little frightened. What was happening? Who had cried out like that? It sounded like someone having their arms torn off.

Harriet wasn’t sure how long it was before the door opened again. It was Professor Snape who entered this time. He had a look of grim satisfaction on his face.

“Come, Potter,” Professor Snape said. “The Headmaster wishes you to join us.”

Harriet swallowed, and followed Professor Snape from the room. They descended the spiral staircase, but in no real hurry it seemed. Neither said anything as they strode down the corridor. They stopped at a door and Professor Snape knocked three times.

“It’s me,” he said and the door opened.

Professor Howe smiled and beckoned them inside. Harriet was amazed at what she saw. Professor Dumbledore was standing in the middle of the room, his wand trained on a man lying on the floor. At first, she thought it was Professor Moody, when she realized it was merely someone wearing Professor Moody’s clothes. Harriet felt staggered. The man was Crouch’s son, Bartemius Crouch, Jr, the man from her visions.

He was bound, and glaring around the room with pure venom in his eyes. Fudge was staring, flabbergasted at the sight. Dawlish also had his wand trained on Crouch, Jr. Professor Snape’s expression, meanwhile, was that of smug satisfaction as he drew a small vial from his pocket.

“Thank you, Severus,” Professor Dumbledore said, taking the vial. Professor Dumbledore held the vial up for Crouch, Jr to see. “You know what this is, I trust?”

Crouch, Jr scowled at Professor Dumbledore.

“Threaten all you like, it’s going to do you no good in the end…” Crouch, Jr retorted. In fact, Harriet noted that despite being caught, there was a hint of satisfaction on his face.

“But… how…?” Harriet asked, completely bewildered. Crouch, Jr had been Professor Moody all along? How was this possible? How could he have fooled so many for so long?

“A long and complicated story, I’m sure,” Professor Howe said. “One I would love to hear.”

“The fuck did you give me?!” Crouch Jr snarled at Professor Howe. “It still burns!”

“It’s called White Honey*,” Professor Snape grinned wickedly. “Ancient dwarven recipe, undoes the effects of any potion taken by the drinker, including Polyjuice. Had you not been using Polyjuice Potion, it would have just made you instantly slobbering drunk, and I’m sure we all would have had a good laugh. As for the flask—”

Professor Howe smirked and drew a hip-flask from his pocket. It looked just like Professor Moody’s.

“Just a little switch up,” Professor Howe said. “Out of boredom for the year after I left the Ministry, I lived on the streets of London as a simple muggle tramp. Pickpocketing was a remarkably useful skill to learn, and having the memory that I do, producing an exact copy of Mad-Eye’s trademark hip-flask was little trouble.”

Professor Howe knelt beside Crouch, Jr. He opened the flask and poured the contents onto the floor. Harriet recognized it as Polyjuice Potion at once. Professor Howe’s expression hardened. “Where is my friend?”

Crouch, Jr’s lips twisted.

“In his trunk… last key…”

Professor Dumbledore knelt and rummaged in one of the pockets of the coat Crouch, Jr was wearing. He pulled out a set of keys and turned to Professor Snape.

“Fetch Minerva at once and see to Mad-Eye.”

He handed Professor Snape the key and Professor Snape swept from the room at once.

“So, doing this the easy way then?” Dawlish asked, looking a bit relieved.

“What’s the point?” Crouch, Jr grunted.

“Not much, really,” Professor Howe agreed.

“How did you get out of Azkaban?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Harriet slowly looked up at the headmaster. His eyes were burning in a way Harriet had never seen them before. It was almost frightening, as if someone other than Professor Dumbledore was standing there.

Crouch, Jr chuckled. “My father got me out… on my mother’s request. He loved her… as he’d never loved me.”

Fudge shook his head. Unlike the others, his face was full of pain and betrayal. “Your father did love you, Barty. He was so proud of you… I remember the day your OWL results came, he had to tell everyone in the Ministry how well you did—”

“Lies!” Crouch, Jr snarled. “He only saw me as something to brag about, to bolster how great he was!”

Fudge sighed, shaking his head once more in exasperation.

“Continue,” Professor Dumbledore said curtly. The group fell silent. Crouch, Jr took a deep breath.

“Polyjuice Potion. My mother was dying. She poisoned herself to spite him for what he did to me. She asked him for one last request: to smuggle me from Azkaban and leave her in my place. He pulled strings in the Ministry to get a deathbed visit. I was nearly spent myself. He smuggled in some Polyjuice. I took some containing one of my mother’s hairs, she took some containing one of mine. My father took me out, still bearing my mother’s appearance. She died the next day, still bearing my appearance. She kept taking the potion to the end.”

Crouch, Jr sighed. “My father then staged a fake death for her. It was a small, private funeral, and a closed casket. But that grave is empty.”

Crouch, Jr snarled again, though more to himself than anyone else.

“And how did your father keep you under control all these years?” Professor Dumbledore pressed.

“The Imperius Curse,” Crouch, Jr replied. “I was little more than a vegetable. I sat around, under an invisibility cloak, while Winky took care of me.”

Crouch, Jr sniffed. “It was always hard this year, seeing her around the castle. She always took such good care of me…”

“How did you escape your father’s control?” Professor Dumbledore asked, unwavering.

Crouch, Jr snorted. “Began to fight the curse after a while. Not as strong against it… not like her.”

Crouch, Jr’s eyes finally fell on Harriet. As they did, a mad look of glee fell over his eyes. “She’ll be the one… so powerful and hasn’t a clue… not one person in a million could throw off the curse like—”

“How did you escape your father’s control?” Professor Dumbledore repeated, keeping Crouch, Jr on track.

Crouch, Jr scowled. “I began to fight the curse. I finally fully awoke in the top-box of the Quidditch World Cup. Winky had talked my father into taking me along. I loved Quidditch as a kid. Said it’s what Mother would have wanted. Anyway, I awoke and saw some kid sitting in front of me and her wand poking out of her back pocket.

“That was mine!” Harriet gasped.

“What?!” Crouch, Jr laughed. “Seriously? Small world, isn’t—”

“Continue,” Professor Dumbledore ordered.

“Right, right. Anyway… I took the wand when Winky wasn’t looking. She’s afraid of heights, so she had her eyes covered. I planned to make my escape that night on my own. Then the Death Eaters—those vile, worthless scum who wouldn’t even brave Azkaban for their Dark Lord—they struck. I wanted to attack them. I wanted to show them all what true devotion to the Dark Lord was.”

Crouch, Jr grumbled. “But Winky wouldn’t let me… she bound me to her magically and dragged me away. But I still had my wand… in the woods we found Karkaroff’s body. It felt so good seeing his lifeless face… Unfaithful scum… I raised the wand and fired the Dark Mark into the sky.”

“And that’s when the Ministry responded?” Fudge asked.

“Yes… They stunned both Winky and me. I was still under the cloak, so they only found Winky. My father knew I was there, though. He dragged me out of the way and then gave Winky clothes. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand…”

“I see… but that still does not explain your escape.”

“No…” Crouch, Jr shook his head. “Soon after, my master came for me…”

“How did he even know about you?” Professor Howe asked.

“Bertha Jorkins,” Crouch, Jr explained.

“Bertha Jorkins?!” Fudge exclaimed. “But how the devil would she know you were still alive?!”

“Used to work in my father’s office,” Crouch, Jr explained. “She came to my father’s house to have him sign some forms. She overheard Winky and me talking in the kitchen and guessed who I was. My father put a memory charm on her. It was too powerful, he said… damaged her memory permanently.”

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe exchanged looks.

“How on earth did You-Know-Who get a hold of her?” Fudge spluttered.

“She came across that oaf, Wormtail, in Albania where he was serving my master. He brought her to my master, who tortured much information out of her: all about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the World Cup… everything he needed to know. He said it took him a while to break through my father’s memory charm…”

Harriet’s stomach was twisting and turning. Crouch, Jr was talking about Bertha Jorkins being tortured as though it was nothing at all. Then, she remembered that last trial. Crouch, Jr had been there… he had helped torture innocent people… possibly the loved ones of one of the nicest people she knew.

“After that her mind was gone… they disposed of her.”

A chilled silence fell over the room. Crouch, Jr simply continued to look around at them all.

“So, what next?” he asked, and he almost sounded bored. “Oh yes, My Lord coming for me!”

Crouch, Jr grinned cheerfully. “It was glorious… It was only father and I at that point, he’d already sacked dear Winky. I was just sitting there in my dungeon bedroom in a pile of my filth while Father tried to figure out what to do with me—weeeeeeell, probably just murder me and bury me in ‘mother’s’ grave I suppose. Anyway, there was a knock on the door and Father found himself face to face with my master.”

“So, he’s acquired a body,” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Something like that,” Crouch, Jr shrugged. It was clear he was going to say no more on that matter. “After that, next part of the plan was getting me into Hogwarts. But who… who would you all trust without question—well—who would all but one of you trust without question?”

Once more silence fell over the room. Crouch, Jr sniggered.

“Mad. Eye. Moody. Nope, none of you suspected, did you? Never second-guessed. You even let me give her private lessons in defensive magic. Even I was astounded how well it was going.”

Harriet shook her head in disgust and disbelief. The more Crouch, Jr was talking, the more obvious it was how much he was enjoying having this audience. She tightened her arms tighter around her chest.

“And yet… yet you know it’s funny…” Crouch, Jr mused, studying Harriet. “The more I got to know her… the more I got to see a part of her none of you could see… strong, she is…”

“And what is Lord Voldemort’s plan with Harriet?” Professor Howe asked.

Crouch, Jr once again shrugged as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Wants her blood to rebuild his old body of course. The devil else would he be doing?”

He gave Professor Dumbledore and Professor Howe incredulous looks. “Seriously? They say you two are the smartest blokes in the whole magical world and neither of you figured that out?”

“And how is he going to accomplish this?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Crouch, Jr laughed aloud. “Really? You really think I’m going to give you _that_ information up without any fuss? Gotta save a little bit of the fun, don’t we?”

“One last question,” Professor Howe said. “The murder last night… how?”

Crouch, Jr smirked. “Oh… if you gotta ask that… there’s no point telling. That’d spoil _all_ the fun we have left!”

Professor Dumbledore sighed and finally lowered his wand.

“Didn’t tell a single fib, did I?” Crouch, Jr smirked up at Professor Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore’s moustache twitched side to side as he twisted his lips in thought.

“We must place new defense measures around Harriet at once,” he said curtly. “Sherrod, please escort Harriet back to my office. We shall convene there and discuss how best to move forward.”

“Wait,” Harriet said. She stepped forward, looking down at the bound, prostrate form of Crouch, Jr.

“Don’t get too close, dear,” Fudge said attempting to take Harriet’s shoulder and pull her back. “No telling what that lunatic might do.”

Harriet paid him no heed. She just kept scowling down at Crouch, Jr.

“The Longbottoms…” Harriet said simply.

For the first time, Crouch, Jr’s grin faltered. He looked at once as though he wanted to rage, and yet was ashamed. He seemed disinclined to reply. Harriet kept staring right into his eyes.

“Did you do it?” Harriet asked, her tone crisp and forceful. “Did you torture them?”

Crouch, Jr spoke up at once. “I told them not to do it… I told them it was stupid for either of them to know anything about where the Dark Lord was hiding. Didn’t want to believe me. I was just a kid. What did I know?”

As Crouch, Jr spoke, Harriet could almost see it all happening inside her mind. She could see young Crouch, Jr arguing with the others: the thick set man, the twitchy man, and the heavy-lidded woman.

“So they went ahead and did it. Then that night as we met up at the inn the Aurors caught up with us…”

Again, Harriet could see images in her mind. She could see a fight breaking out in some dusty tavern. Spells were firing everywhere. She even recognized the real Professor Moody at one point in the melee.

“And that was it… I was sent down for their crime. Oh sure… I was guilty of plenty… but not that… not what _he_ sent me away for, stopping me from continuing to find my master!”

Harriet took a step back. Crouch, Jr was raging. He seemed as though he’d finally come unplugged, and all his resentment was pouring out of him. “But now even he has failed me! I’ve found a better one! He won’t know what’s coming for him! When the time comes, Harriet, play along! Play along!”

Professor Howe quite forcibly pulled Harriet back from the room, slamming the door shut. Crouch, Jr’s mad cackling could still be heard from behind them. Professor Howe was staring at Harriet with all the thought it seemed he could muster.

“Harriet…” Professor Howe started, in a much softer tone than he’d used on Crouch, Jr. “Tell me… have you ever… made someone tell you the truth before?”

“What? No?” Harriet spluttered in shock.

“I see…” Professor Howe said, continuing to give Harriet a very curious, but now very impressed look.

“What… I… what just…?”

“Let’s just get you back to Albus’ office as advised,” Professor Howe said.

Professor Howe put a gentle hand on Harriet’s shoulder, guiding her down the corridor. Harriet was in a state of shock. However, they had only made it a few paces when there was the sound of voices from behind them.

Professor Howe paused, holding them up.

“I… it is difficult to explain otherwise, Dumbledore, but I can’t accept the word of one man that You-Know-Who is back. This is going to require some serious investigation.”

“You have it from myself, Cornelius, I detected no falsehood in Barty Crouch, Jr at any point tonight.”

From behind them, Professor Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge came into view. They were arguing rapidly.

“Well you’ll pardon me the caution of wanting this thoroughly checked over! Crouch, Jr is clearly out of his mind.”

“Dawlish on guard duty, is he?” Professor Howe asked. He didn’t sound necessarily thrilled with that arrangement.

“Yes-yes,” Fudge said dismissively. “Now come, let’s get on to—”

“HEADMASTER!”

It was Professor McGonagall. She was running as fast as she could towards them.

“What is it, Minerva?” Professor Dumbledore asked, moving towards her quickly. “Has something further happened to Mad-Eye?”

“Not Mad-Eye, Headmaster! Crouch! He’s escaped!”

“What?!” Fudge exclaimed, dropping his bowler cap in his shock. “We just left him!”

“I was coming to fetch you to tell you we’ve taken care of Mad-Eye but you weren’t in the room. All I found was this!”

Professor McGonagall held out a piece of parchment. Harriet squinted in the dim light and read.

 

_To the Most Respected Heads of Hogwarts, Rathlin, and Minister of Magic,_

_Sorry to run away with your prize. That truly was an impressive capture, Howe old boy. Thing is, seems Barty is now in my pocket (quite literally I should add), and I’m about to smuggle him from this school forever. Ahhh, alas John Dawlish, you were a useful tool for quite some time, but tonight his usefulness finally wore out. I have a much more fun tool now in my repertoire who I think will serve me far better in the days ahead._

_With Deepest Regards,_

_Solomon Nehemiah Kinney_

_P.S. That was a truly amazing show at the end, Miss Potter. Successful Legilimency at your age. I see why my new friend has placed such faith in you. Remember his final words: play along._


	37. Unexpected Ally

“It does not matter how expected or unexpected help can be. What matters is how unlikely it is to come if one never asks.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet stared at the wall of Professor Dumbledore’s office. She felt numb. She didn’t know how to process anything that was happening. Even with Daniel and Aurora sitting either side of her, holding her hands, she felt in a state of total shock.

“The Ministry is in shambles over this,” said the tall, black Auror in the middle of the room.

Harriet remembered him. His name was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was one of the few Aurors Harriet had ever really felt comfortable around.

“We have had to relocate the entire Auror office over this,” Kingsley explained.

“A wise move,” Professor Howe sighed. “Kinney won’t try anything like that again… so from a practical value it won’t mean much, but a chance to start anew can’t go amiss.”

Harriet studied Professor Howe. He did not look at all like himself. For once, Professor Howe looked almost defeated. He was lounging back in his usual chair, staring off into space, the corner of his eye twitching as he thought hard. Harriet felt as though she could see and hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to make sense of what had happened, to see where he had made the mistake. The sight was more than slightly disconcerting to Harriet.

“Yes, Professor,” Kingsley agreed. “The entire office is demoralized. Fudge has done nothing but berate them for hours. He’s now going to be using Dementors as his personal guard from here on.”

“We have been blind,” Professor Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair behind his desk. “We have been foolish, and blind. There are no two ways about it.”

The room fell silent at this.

“We allowed ourselves to become divided in our struggle to find the true threat,” Professor Dumbledore continued. “And in the end, the threats have proved one and the same.”

“Well… we need to piece together what we know of both threats,” Professor Morrisey mused. “Solomon Kinney I think is the most pressing.”

“Quite agreed, Jonathan.”

“Kinney?!” Daniel said, rising to his feet as well. “How the hell is Kinney the primary threat? He wasn’t the one who spent months here right under our nose, teaching Harriet private lessons—”

“You agreed to the private lessons as well, Daniel,” Professor Dumbledore reminded him. “We were all fooled by Crouch Junior’s performance. Now is not the time to place blame. Now is the time to act.”

“Kinney’s the threat because clearly Kinney is the alpha dog in this situation,” Professor Morrisey said, putting his hand on Kinney’s letter, which was lying on Professor Dumbledore’s desk, for emphasis. “It is clear this is not the first they’ve worked together. Disguised as Dawlish, clearly it was Kinney who carried out the murder of Crouch Senior.”

Professor Morrisey sniffed. “But the wording of this letter… Kinney says he has a new toy… that to me says that in this arrangement, Crouch Junior is not on top.”

“That… is well reasoned,” Professor Howe admitted.

“Ergo, it is him we need to focus on, as Crouch Junior is now his pawn. It seems quite clear to me that Crouch Junior has renounced his allegiance to Lord Voldemort, at least in part. If you ask me, he seems bent now on making Harriet his new dark lady of sorts. Which is good news for us.”

“How the hell is that good news?!” Aurora asked, disgust in her voice.

“Aurora, my dear,” Professor Dumbledore said calmly and kindly, “this buys us time. Precious time. If their ambition was to cause Harriet physical harm, we would have to think that they would have already done so. But as it is… if their ambition is kidnap, that is a much more difficult proposition. Now more than ever.”

“What did he mean… play along…?” Daniel asked.

“As for that… we cannot know,” Professor Howe sighed. “Does it mean anything to you, Harriet? From all your time spent with him?”

Harriet shook her head.

“Well, much must be broken down now,” Professor Morrisey said. “We can assume that Crouch Junior took Mad-Eye’s place in that attack on his house last summer. From there, he kept Mad-Eye alive, using his hair for Polyjuice, and milking him for all the information he could get about who we are and how we relate to Mad-Eye in turn.”

“That seems the most likely, yes,” Professor Dumbledore agreed.

“H-how is he?” Harriet managed to ask.

“He will live,” Professor Dumbledore replied giving Harriet a soft smile. “He is in a terrible state, but he will recover. He is being moved to St Mungo’s as we speak.”

“Back to the topic at hand,” Professor Morrisey grumbled. “In the process, Crouch Jr has received a first-hand assessment as to just how powerful young Miss Potter is.”

“But I’m—”

“Yes, you are,” Professor Morrisey interrupted her, impatiently. “You performed Legilimency, however accidental, on a full-grown and very powerful wizard. You survived a curse no one else had ever survived, you’re a Parseltongue, you excel in defensive magic, and you have a grit and determination far beyond your years. You thwarted two previous attempts by Voldemort to return to power. Believe me, my dear, they are right to consider you a potential successor to Voldemort.”

“The hell does that mean?” Daniel asked, his eyes flashing.

Professor Morrisey held up a quelling hand. “Only that she is very strong. From the descriptions of Harriet’s visions, we can surmise that Lord Voldemort is presently in a very weakened state, even if he has regained at least a temporary body. I’m sure when Crouch Junior compared the two side by side, it became easy for him to see who would prove the better master to follow in the days ahead.”

“Okay… so where does Kinney fit into this?” Daniel asked.

“I imagine Kinney’s just been doing reconnaissance all this time,” Professor Howe said, slowly leaning forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “He most likely put Dawlish under the Imperius Curse as Dawlish was escorting him from the country. I should have warned Fudge not to send anyone with Kinney alone… I misjudged how ambitious Kinney was… I surmise he was using Dawlish to gather information for at least a year.”

Professor Howe looked up at Kingsley.

“Kingsley, was Dawlish with the Minister the night of the attack on the World Cup?”

Kingsley thought. “Yes, Professor.”

“Well, that gives us something of a timeline,” Professor Howe mused, starting to seem more like himself. “I think that all last year, Kinney let an Imperiused Dawlish do all his work for him. Then, sometime prior to the World Cup, he returned. Right after the spectacle of the World Cup attack, that is most likely when he finally took Dawlish’s place permanently… gathering his intelligence first hand. I doubt there’s a single secret about the Ministry, outside of the Department of Mysteries, that he doesn’t know at this point.”

“How do you know?” Daniel asked. “What if he was just Dawlish from the start?”

“Well, if Dawlish was with the Minister at the same time Kinney was murdering Igor Karkaroff… even Kinney can’t be in two places at once. Furthermore, there was a murder in Paris shortly after the end of last school year,” Professor Howe explained. “A man connected with the Great Plains secessionists was poisoned outside a café. He had been speaking with a man matching Kinney’s description.”

“I thought Kinney was working with the secessionists?” Aurora asked.

“I think we have to accept that at this point, Kinney has gone rogue,” Professor Morrisey said. “Solomon Kinney’s one love is causing chaos. Well, the US is in a war. Who would notice his chaos in that mess? But here… here in magical Europe where we’ve all gotten fat and complacent? We’re too much of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Solomon Kinney is a predator,” Professor Howe added. “He has moved on to more fertile hunting grounds.”

“So how the hell do we stop him?” Daniel asked.

The room fell silent.

“At present all we can do is trust in one another, and keep moving forward,” Professor Dumbledore replied. “There are two clear threats that face us: one is Lord Voldemort, the other is Solomon Kinney. Now that we have confirmed Lord Voldemort has indeed returned… we have no choice but to reinstate the Order of the Phoenix.”

“The what?” Aurora blinked.

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Kingsley explained. “It was our secret order that fought Lord Voldemort the last time he was strong. Daniel himself was a member.”

“And proud of it,” Daniel chimed in.

“We’ll need all the old crowd…” Professor Dumbledore mused. “Arabella Figg, Daedalus Diggle, Remus and Sirius of course…”

“And what of Diggle’s new flame?” Kingsley asked, suppressing a smile.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course. Trust me, Madam Bishop has wanted this all her life.”

Kingsley nodded and left the room at once. Professor Dumbledore turned to Professor Morrisey.

“Jonathan… you know what I am going to ask you to do?”

“Of course, Albus,” Professor Morrisey said. To Harriet’s great surprise, he actually smiled and laced his fingers together, turning the palms out and cracking his knuckles. “It is high time Solomon Kinney finally had some trouble of his own…”

Harriet gripped Daniel’s hand tighter as Professor Dumbledore turned to the three of them. Her heart sank. He was going to send Daniel away too.

Daniel squeezed Harriet’s hand back, giving her the most comforting look he could.

“As for you, Daniel,” Professor Dumbledore said. “You and Aurora are to take Miss Potter to the hospital wing straight-away. There she is to enjoy some rest and relaxation after a harrowing experience. Afterwards, I want you to remain here to help in keeping Harriet as safe as possible.”

Neither of the three spoke for a moment.

“What?” Daniel asked, in total surprise.

“Our numbers are not great, but we should have enough people that if we begin to act now, we will need you here where you can do the most good.”

Harriet looked up at Daniel. Daniel looked from Harriet, to Aurora, to Harriet again, and smiled.

## * * * *

Hogwarts never failed in its quest for good gossip. By the following morning, the entire school new all about the murder of Mr Crouch. The details were much hazier, however, on what had happened to ‘Professor Moody.’

Many students thought that he was off to catch whoever had killed Mr Crouch. Some thought that ‘Professor Moody’ had been killed as well. One or two even thought that ‘Moody’ himself had done the killing.

Harriet hated knowing better but not being able to say anything, to set any of them right. Kinney had murdered Mr Crouch, then helped Crouch Junior escape. Crouch Junior had been Professor Moody all along, working for Lord Voldemort. But who would believe her? What proof did she have?

As the days went by, Harriet did her best to focus on classes and acting as though life was completely back to normal. This was far easier said than done. For one thing, they no longer had Defence Against the Dark Arts classes until further notice.

It did not help that the lack of this class kept reminding Harriet of the private lessons Crouch Junior had given her. She kept thinking about how often he had talked to her about how little difference there was between right and wrong. Every time she did, she wanted to stab something with her quill. He had been trying to soften her to the Dark Arts all along. And Harriet had been drinking it up…

The last thing to weigh on Harriet’s mind was Neville. Every day she saw him and it tore her up inside now that she knew the truth. That night in the Hospital Wing, Daniel told her the whole truth about Neville’s parents. They had both been tortured by the Death Eaters that Harriet had seen in the trial: Bellatrix Lestrange, along with her husband, Rodolphus, and brother-in-law Rabastan.

They had not killed the Longbottoms. Instead, both had gone mad, and were now permanently living in St Mungo’s Hospital. Harriet was having difficulty wrapping her mind around it. Her parents were dead, but Neville’s were still alive and couldn’t even recognize him. Harriet wondered if that was possibly worse. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if James and Lily were still alive and yet had no idea who she was. Or Daniel and Aurora…

Despite all her inner turmoil, one of the things that was helping Harriet get through the best was, unsurprisingly, Daniel. He was making a point of sending Harriet a letter and small box of sweets every day. Every letter was full of encouragement and care. Harriet had taken to putting each inside her jewellery box in the secret compartment underneath, and she went to bed every night contented with the taste of the sweets on her tongue and the feeling of a full stomach.

The latest one read:

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Just sending you warm thoughts as I watch the sunrise. I have to take Sirius in for another of his check-ups today. St Mungo’s says his health has improved dramatically with a proper diet, and he’s almost to one hundred fifty pounds already._

_I just want you to know how proud of you I am. There has been so much going on and you always remain so strong and keep going. There are plenty of people four times your age who can’t handle what you go through._

_However, always know that whenever things get bad, you can always come to me, or Aurora. We will always do everything we can to be there if you need someone. Whether it’s something serious, or you just need a friendly shoulder._

_Always._

 

_All my love,_

_Daniel_

 

The next best thing helping Harriet keep going was Fred. In the aftermath of the murder and Crouch Junior’s escape, Harriet was finding it hard to go anywhere without Fred around. Normally she thought she would find this annoying, but in the case of Fred it was entirely welcome. He was always making her laugh, whether or not she felt like laughing.

“Hey, you know what?” Fred asked, a week later, as he and Harriet cuddled on the couch in the common room.

“What?” Harriet asked, nibbling on a liquorice wand.

“We haven’t had a date in a while…” Fred replied, contemplatively.

“That’s true…” Harriet admitted.

It had indeed been a while. And yet, somehow it didn’t feel right to think about. Harriet wasn’t sure why. She’d never been really close to Mr Crouch, in fact, she hadn’t liked him much at all.

“Oh come on,” Fred said nudging her side. “It’ll cheer you up, get your mind off of life for a while.”

“Yeah…” Harriet pondered, before smiling. “Yeah, that does sound like a great idea.”

Fred beamed. Just then, the portrait hole opened.

“E-excuse me, Harriet?”

Harriet looked around. It was Toni Middleton, the American Ravenclaw girl who Hyland fancied. She looked rather anxious as she looked around the common room, obviously feeling out of place. Harriet rose and walked over to her, smiling as politely as she could.

“Hello, Toni, right?”

“Yeah,” Toni smiled. She held out a letter. “I wanted to give you this at dinner but I didn’t get the chance, then it seemed silly to send an owl… I was going to give it to Scott to give to you but he said it would mean more if I gave it to you myself… that’s how I got the password by the way.”

Toni gestured to the still open portrait hole.

Harriet kept smiling. “Oh that’s okay, I’ve been in your common room enough over the years. Thank you though,” Harriet said, taking the letter from Toni.

“It’s… it’s just a thank you… for—you know—finally finding him.”

By ‘him’ Harriet knew Toni meant Hyland. Which wasn’t strictly speaking true. It was more like Hyland (or rather Jerrad) had found her. Harriet looked back up at Toni, wondering how much she knew.

“Have they said anything to you about where he was? What happened to him?”

Toni shrugged looking miserable. “No, but Hyland seems to be doing better. We’re writing most every day now. It’s harder with him living in London, since Hogsmeade’s gone.”

Harriet bit her lip, her empathy for Toni growing.

“Anyway, thanks again and… thanks.” Toni went slightly red and climbed back out of the portrait hole. Harriet watched it close before looking down at the letter as she made her way back over to Fred.

“Something juicy?” Fred asked as Harriet sat.

“Don’t think so,” Harriet said, opening the letter. “Just a thank you, she said.”

Harriet drew out the letter and started to read.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_I can’t thank you enough for finding Hyland again. I’ve been going frantic ever since the attack on Hogsmeade, I thought I had lost someone all over again and it was tearing me apart, but all anyone would tell me is that Hyland is okay. Not even Aberforth would tell me anything._

 

Harriet paused, pondering. _Aberforth? Who’s Aberforth?_

 

_Hyland’s become like a brother to Taylor and me. The thought that we lost him was just getting too much. Especially when so few people seemed to really car, or like they weren’t worried about him at all. Is that what magic is like over here? If you’re a muggle they really just don’t matter?_

 

Harriet felt her stomach starting to knot a little. She knew full well why no one would tell Toni anything about what had happened. She also felt a pang of sympathy for Hyland, as he so clearly had deeper feelings for Toni, while she apparently only thought of him ‘like a brother’. Harriet’s next sensation was guilt as she stole a glance at Fred, then over at Kieran who was playing a game of Exploding Snap with Marcus, Jackson, Dean and Seamus.

 

_Sorry this letter’s short, and I know I’m being a chicken and not saying this in person but I just didn’t know how to say it out loud. Thank you again._

 

_Toni_

 

“Well that was nice of her,” Fred said, having read along with Harriet.

“Yeah,” Harriet admitted, putting the letter back in the envelope before pocketing it. She cuddled up under Fred’s arm again, resting her head on his shoulder, suddenly feeling a bit more confident in her decision for another date.

“So, our next date… next Saturday?” Harriet asked.

“You’re on,” Fred grinned.

Harriet snuggled up closer and sighed contentedly.

## * * * *

With the end of year exams looming, most of Harriet’s friends were starting to get distracted by studying. They were still taking time to help Harriet out, but these hours spent in empty classrooms felt more like work than fun. Hermione did impress everyone on Thursday when she revealed that she had created a spell all on her own.

“It’s called _Four-Point Spell_ ,” Hermione explained, holding her hand out flat, palm up, her wand resting on top of it.

“ _Four-Point Spell_?” Scott asked, his eyes glowing with interest.

“Yes,” Hermione replied proudly. “You hold your wand like this, and say _Point Me_.”

Hermione’s wand twitched then spun around on her hand as if supported on an invisible axis to point the opposite direction of where it was pointing before.

Harriet looked out the window to see which direction the wand was pointing.

“So, it points north?” Harriet asked.

“Precisely!” Hermione beamed. “You try!”

Harriet held up her wand as Hermione had demonstrated.

“ _Point Me_ ,” Harriet told her wand. Just as with Hermione’s wand, Harriet’s wand pivoted, just like a compass needle, to point due north.

“Cool!” Dora said, immediately trying with her own wand.

“Mine’s not working right,” Ronnie pouted. Her wand kept alternating between pointing east, or right at Dora.

“Well, it can take some practice,” Hermione said kindly.

Ronnie sighed. “I’m always so rubbish at this, I should have been a Squib. Then I could just play football and be important that way.”

“Oh, Ronnie,” Hermione intoned, putting a hand gently on Ronnie’s shoulders. “You are great at football, your team’s winning the school league.”

Ronnie just shrugged again. Marcus gave her a sympathetic look. “Well, would you like to go out and practice some? It’s staying light out a lot longer now.”

“Meh,” Ronnie said dismissively.

Harriet kept watching her friend as the conversation turned to the upcoming exams. Ronnie looked even less interested in this subject than before. It occurred to Harriet that despite now dating one of her brothers, and all the time she had spent at the Weasley’s, Harriet and Ronnie had drifted apart over the last couple of years. They didn’t particularly share many similar interests. Harriet liked Defence Against the Dark Arts and playing Quidditch. Ronnie liked football and— _come to think of it… what does Ronnie like?_ Harriet thought to herself as they gathered up their things and prepared to return to their common rooms.

Ronnie was average at best in most every class. She didn’t put in much effort, because as far as Harriet could tell, she just didn’t care. Harriet kept pondering this as they passed Professor Sutler’s room. The pang of empathy rose once more in Harriet’s stomach. Just then, Professor Sutler emerged from his office. He paused spying the students and smiled.

“Ah, hello there all,” he said cheerfully.

“Hello, sir,” Harriet smiled.

Professor Sutler’s smile faltered slightly as he spotted Ronnie.

“Ah, Miss Weasley… I was wondering if I might have a word with you?”

Everyone looked around at Ronnie. Ronnie had a defeated look on her face. “Okay, Professor…” Ronnie mumbled.

Professor Sutler’s kind smile remained as he stepped aside and beckoned Ronnie into the room. Ronnie gave them all a sad little smile as she disappeared into the room. Professor Sutler, meanwhile, gave them all a kind look and even a wink as he closed the door.

“Huh,” Marcus pondered, scratching his cheek. “Wonder what that’s about…?”

“I hope it’s not her grades,” Hermione said, sadly. “Ronnie’s… she’s suffered enough there…”

“Although, that is the safest bet,” Dora muttered. However, unlike usual, where Dora’s comment would be taunting or even a little mean, Dora sounded even sadder than Hermione did.

## * * * *

An hour later, Ronnie still had not returned. Harriet knew that Professor Sutler was hardly the vindictive sort, and surely Ronnie was in no real trouble. And yet, her worry about her friend was starting to build. By bedtime, Ronnie was still absent.

Harriet, who was exempted from end of year exams, and so did not need to study, kept glancing at the portrait hole. She was starting to get so worried she couldn’t even enjoy the Ice Mice that had come with Daniel’s latest parcel.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Harriet said, rising.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Hermione said, trying to sound comforting.

“I know, just…”

Harriet headed off without saying more. She was about halfway down the staircase when she saw someone approaching, their nose buried in a book. Harriet was so unaccustomed to seeing the girl this way that it wasn’t until she passed a lit candelabra as she approached that Harriet realized it was Ronnie.

Ronnie must have heard Harriet’s footsteps, for she looked up and her face split into a wide grin.

“Harriet!” Ronnie called and hurried up the rest of the stairs, still taking care, despite her haste, to hop the trick one.

“There you are,” Harriet smiled. “We were worrying about you.”

“Look at this!” Ronnie exclaimed, holding the book out towards Harriet as they reached each other.

Harriet looked down at the book. It was very old, and battered all over. Harriet could just barely make out the title on the faded cover: _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them._

“It was his first copy he got when he was a kid on his first trip to Diagon Alley!” Ronnie grinned. By ‘his’ Harriet took it she was referring to Professor Sutler.

“It’s got all his notes and stuff in it too,” Ronnie continued, opening the book once more to show Harriet.

Harriet had to marvel. There were small scraps of paper stuck between every page, each one covered in scrawled notes and illustrations.

“Wow, he let you borrow this?” Harriet asked.

“No, he’s letting me have it!” Ronnie said, closing the book and clutching it to her chest.

“Even with all his notes in them?” Harriet asked, quite taken aback at this generosity.

“He said he has them all compiled properly for his new book soon,” Ronnie explained. “He said it was time it was passed on to another animal lover.”

Harriet blinked. She didn’t exactly remember Ronnie being that much of an animal lover. She’d never paid much attention in Care of Magical Creatures that she could remember.

“That’s amazing Ronnie,” Harriet smiled. “But, why…?”

“Well…” Ronnie shifted awkwardly. “He said when he was teaching Care of Magical Creatures… I was the best in the year.”

“Really?” Harriet asked, both impressed and surprised. “Even better than Hermione?”

“Yeah, I got extra credit on that essay he gave us after the Snidgets…” Ronnie admitted, looking at once embarrassed and proud of herself. “I wrote two extra feet. But after we went back to Hagrid, he asked Hagrid how I was doing and Hagrid told him I wasn’t doing as well. So he wanted to make sure I was okay and… anyway he also gave me this!” Ronnie went on, pulling another book from her bag. This one had a large red cover, and an artwork of a small bird with a bright red breast and green back and cap with a long, solid looking beak. The title read: _The Complete Book of British Birds_.

“Oh wow,” Harriet said, starting to force her enthusiasm slightly.

“He said he noticed I liked birds best,” Ronnie said, her voice full of pride.

Despite her own lack of knowledge or enthusiasm for the subject, Harriet couldn’t help but smile. She was just feeling so happy seeing Ronnie finally so happy about something.

“So he gave me this one too.” Ronnie continued holding up the bird book. “He said _Fantastic Beasts_ gives a good overview of the magical birds of Britain, but this book goes into detail on the non-magical ones, the ones we see in our gardens all the time.”

Harriet kept grinning. “Cool, let’s take them back and show the others.”

“Are you barmy?!” Ronnie exclaimed, slamming the book shut and hugging it to her chest alongside _Fantastic Beasts_.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, confused.

“I can’t let people know I like stuff like this!” Ronnie explained, looking around as though worried about eavesdroppers. “They’ll think I’m a… a nerd like Hermione or something!”

“Ronnie!” Harriet gasped. “That’s terrible!”

Ronnie grimaced. “Okay, that was mean, but…” Ronnie trailed off.

“Ronnie,” Harriet said kindly, putting an arm around her friend’s waist as they started back up the stairs. “You gotta stop thinking everyone’s going to treat you like Fred and George do just because you’re not like Fred and George.”

“I don’t wanna be like Fred and George,” Ronnie pouted.

“You’re not,” Harriet smiled. “You’re still that tough kid who told the whole school her real name’s Ronnie when the whole school was giggling at her.”

Ronnie paused. “But… my real name _is_ Ronald.”

Harriet shrugged. “Well, like… I guess…” she thought hard on how to put her meaning into words. “Like me and Daniel and Aurora and the girls… yeah we’re not like… blood family, but they’re still pretty much my family. So… I guess if family can be whatever you want it to be… then your name is whatever you want it to be too.”

Ronnie’s face brightened, even though her blush faded.

“So, birds, huh?” Harriet asked, her grin growing.

“Yeah!” Ronnie began, her eyes brightening even more. “Like they can totally fly, some for months, without magic, all because of the way their wings are shaped. I mean imagine that, you just kick off the ground and you just… fly! For days and weeks and months! You can circle the whole world; eat, sleep, everything in the air! And their respiratory system is like almost _totally_ different from ours. They have a larynx like us but that’s actually not how they make sound, they make sound through a syrinx. And they don’t just have lungs, they have air sacs. And they don’t even have a diaphragm, they use the air sacs…”

Harriet just kept smiling and nodding as she and Ronnie continued up the stairs. It did not take long for Ronnie to start speaking in technical jargon that was far over Harriet’s head. They were just about to the portrait hole when Ronnie stopped.

“I think that’s what I like about Dora so much…”

“What?” Harriet asked, taken off-guard by this statement.

“I think she’s like a bird…” Ronnie observed. “She’s pretty… and she dresses really nice all the time and I guess that’s kinda like a bird’s plumage, huh? And she protects what’s hers so much…”

Harriet rolled her eyes.

“And she sings really nice…”

Harriet blinked, once more surprised.

“Dora sings?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Ronnie said. “She’s kinda like me though. She doesn’t want people to know, cuz she thinks they’ll make fun of her. She has a hard enough time being in Slytherin house while being a Flamel.”

“How do you know she sings then?”

Ronnie blushed a little. “Remember second year, when we were brewing the Polyjuice Potion?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, one day I was going to check on how things were going, and she was in there alone and singing. It was _really_ pretty. She got really mad though that I overheard her… so I haven’t said anything since.”

Harriet hugged Ronnie’s waist tighter.

“So like… I guess I see Dora as my like… nightingale.”

Harriet felt her heart grow. “Awwwww, Ronnie that’s so sweet…”

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” Ronnie said bumping Harriet with her hip. “I can still kick your butt in most everything else.”

“You do the same as me except in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“You’re getting private lessons from Mad-Eye Moody!”

“I was still best before that.”

“…Fine… I’m still strong than you.”

“That right?”

“Yep, see?”

“Okay! Okay! You win… now put me down.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“…No.”

## * * * *

Harriet shivered as the chill, damp night breeze washed over her. The weather had warmed considerably, with June mere days away, but the night was still cool as Harriet and Fred snuck out onto the top of the Astronomy tower. While Daniel still had Harriet’s invisibility cloak, he had apparently forgotten she still had the Marauder’s Map, which Harriet was now pocketing.

The house elves had once more outdone themselves, preparing delicious looking curried chicken sandwiches, a bowl of Waldorf salad and a carafe of raspberry lemonade. The smell of the sandwiches in particular was making Harriet’s stomach grumble.

“Nice to have another clear night,” Fred said, looking up at the stars.

“Yeah,” Harriet smiled, looking up at them too as she and Fred settled in below the parapet, out of the wind. “Which ones are ours again?”

“All of them, duh,” Fred said cockily.

Harriet elbowed him gently, before cuddling up closer. Fred winked and began serving them food. Harriet wasn’t entirely sold on the salad, but the sandwiches were delicious. She supposed the salads reminded her too much of living back at the Dursleys while being forced to follow Dudley’s diet.

“Ahhhh,” Fred sighed in contentment as he leaned back against the parapet, rubbing his stomach.

“Mmmhmmm,” Harriet agreed. Secretly, she was wishing they’d taken one or two more sandwiches.

“So, thought about what you’re going to do when you win this thing?” Fred asked.

Harriet snorted. “Fred, I don’t even know _how_ I’m going to win this thing.”

“You’re going to do great,” Fred replied confidently. “You always win at everything.”

“With help,” Harriet admitted.

“Everyone needs help, all the time.”

Harriet gave Fred a sceptical look. “Says you.”

“Hey, I couldn’t do anything without George,” Fred admitted. He smiled even brighter at the stars. “He’s pretty amazing… yeah he’s busy with Erica a lot, but he still always makes time to work on Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with me.”

Harriet hugged her arm tighter around his waist. As she did, she rested her head against his shoulder. He smelled quite nice, having clearly not only just bathed before the date, but also shaved. The skin of his cheek on her forehead was softer and smoother than she remembered.

“Someone put some effort in tonight, huh?” Harriet asked, smiling.

Fred shrugged. “Hey, you’re worth it.”

Harriet felt her cheeks get quite warm. She hugged tighter against him.

“Hey, Fred?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you heard anything from Percy?”

Fred sighed. “Not yet. Can’t imagine how he’s feeling. The git loved Crouch.”

“You know he’d probably be nicer to you if you stopped calling him that all the time.”

“We’d stop calling him that all the time if he’d stop acting like one,” Fred muttered. “Always been like that. Always trying to tell George and me what to do. Mum’s perfect little prefect…”

Fred sighed, clearly wanting to change the subject. Harriet looked up at the night sky again. As she watched, one of the owls swooped past on its way to the owlery. Glancing at Fred once more, a thought occurred to her.

“Fred?”

“Yeah?”

“If I was a bird… what kind would I be?”

Fred looked back down at Harriet, quite bemused.

“What bird would you be?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Huh, guess I’ve never really thought about that.”

“No?”

“No… I like you as you. Why would I like you as a bird?”

“Just… just curious,” Harriet muttered. She didn’t know why she felt so put out. Maybe she wanted to hear Fred talk about her the same way that Ronnie had talked about Dora.

Harriet bit her lip. That wasn’t all. She wanted to hear Fred talk about her the way Krum had talked about Aello as well. She wanted Fred to look at her the way Krum had looked at Aello. To hold her that way…

“Harriet?”

Harriet didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled Fred down into a hard kiss. She felt Fred freeze for a moment, before he slowly relaxed and kissed back.

It was nothing like the kiss with Dora. Harriet didn’t know if she’d say it was better or worse, simply different. Harriet didn’t know what truly made her do it, except a sort of hunger that she felt through her whole body.

She felt Fred run a hand through her hair. Then the hand moved over her shoulder. She reached up and rested her own hand on his, all the while her eyes closed, their lips together.

## * * * *

Harriet sighed contentedly as she flopped back on her bed. DIDS hissed in protest at being awoken. Harriet giggled and rather than letting him go back to sleep, pulled the tiny dragon over to her by his tail and proceeded to tickle his little belly. DIDS emitted a tiny squeal, writhed around though made no serious effort to escape.

It had been three days since the date. Harriet was still on cloud nine. She felt like she was floating everywhere she went. Fred was wonderful. Fred was perfect.

They were sitting together at meals now. They would walk hand in hand in the halls. Harriet didn’t care about the looks anyone gave them. Screw the jealous mutterings of both boys and girls.

She giggled more, finally relenting on DIDS. The little dragon gave her a little snarl before crawling off onto her pillow, curling up to sleep once more.

Who cared about these weird plots going on? She was happy now. For once in this horrid year she was happy.

Things were still hardly ‘normal’ around Hogwarts. Harriet did have a moment of anger the previous day when an article was finally released about CrouchSenior’s death. It mentioned nothing about him being murdered. By the sound of it, the Ministry was trying to cover-up what had happened.

Harriet started to worry again. What were Kinney and Crouch Junior up to? What was Lord Voldemort up to? What was this Order of the Phoenix doing to stop them? Daniel hadn’t given her any details so far.

“Harriet?”

Harriet looked up from her bed. Hermione and Scott were standing in the doorway. Hermione looked anxious, as she often did when she had bad news, while Scott had a very grim look on his face.

“What is it?” Harriet asked, sitting up.

It was then that Harriet noticed that Hermione was carrying a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. She knew already, without Hermione even saying so, that Rita Skeeter had struck again.

“Oh no… what’s she done now…?” Harriet asked.

Hermione grimaced. She crossed over to Harriet’s bed, holding out the paper.

“I… I figured you might hear about this soon… so I just… thought this might soften the blow…”

Harriet grimaced as she picked up the paper. Harriet gasped. Hermione didn’t need to tell her the page. It was right there on the front, just above an article in the sidebar, was a picture of Finn. He was leaning against a wall wearing drab, grubby clothing and looking shifty.

The title made Harriet’s stomach churn.

 

_Muggle Miscreant Makes Mockery of Memorial_

_By Rita Skeeter_

 

_As everyone who’s anyone in the Magical world knows (and quite a few who aren’t), coming in June is the gala event of the decade, the charity event to rebuild the beloved town of Hogsmeade. Much has been made of this event, which has garnered the top entertainment from around the wizarding world._

_And so it was a distinct sense of shock when word came down that the musical entertainment would not be provided by a proper, respectable magical music group, but a band of Muggles from the unorthodox school of Rathlin Academy._

_Now, in today’s environment, one would normally consider this a beautiful show of solidarity between the magical and non-magical communities (despite the fact that the non-magical world is not supposed to know we exist). However, it can be exclusively reported that there is far more to the ring-leader of this little band than meets the eye, and a dark past that mocks the tragedy that destroyed an entire community._

_The leader of the band picked to headline the entertainment for the event is a young man named Finnbar Negus. Finnbar is a quiet, unassuming young man, who it seems conceals a dark past. Finnbar Negus is not just another student at Rathlin Academy. Finnbar Negus is in fact the ward of Professor Sherrod Howe, Rathlin’s headmaster. He has lived at Rathlin Academy with his younger brother, Colm, since Finnbar was nine and Colm was seven._

_Now, why would two such boys find themselves having to live at a school? The tragic orphans of a terrible accident?_

_No._

_After no small amount of digging, I, Rita Skeeter, have uncovered that Finnbar’s parents are none other than Liam and Siobhan Negus, once known as famous Irish folk-singers in the Muggle world. Today, however, they are safely locked away in prison for their part in not only the 1984 bombing of a Muggle hotel in Brighton in an attempt to kill the Muggle Prime Minister of the time, Margaret Thatcher, that killed five innocent people, but also an attack on Ballygawley in 1985 that killed two, before being brought to justice after a bombing in Enniskillen in 1987 that killed eleven innocent bystanders and grievously injured a further sixty-three._

_It seems that someone thought it would be terribly amusing to commemorate this tragic, terrorist attack by booking a band headlined by the son of terrorists._

_Now, I know some of you are probably thinking: surely, we cannot blame an innocent child for the sins of the parents, can we? Well, while it is true that little Finnbar himself is unlikely to have taken part in his parents’ explosive, deadly pastime, it cannot be ignored that Finnbar was raised by these monsters until 1988 when they were put away once and for all._

_What sort of up-bringing can this boy have possibly had? How can he truly appreciate the tragedy of what happened? How can we know his sympathies lay not with those who lost their homes and livelihoods, but with the mad man Solomon Kinney himself? This is a child who was raised to hate Britain, how can we expect him to keep from extending that hatred to Magical Britain as well?_

_Surely, we can all agree that this insult to the memory of our beloved Hogsmeade cannot go unaddressed by the organizers of this beautiful event. We cannot let the offspring of terror and destruction make a mockery of this hallowing event, and hire a much more appropriate group to honour this event._

 

Harriet’s hands were shaking.

Scott took a deep breath. “I… I don’t know if any of it’s true or not… but… Colm wrote this morning too… Finn’s… they dropped him from the gala.”

Harriet felt her anger growing. This wasn’t fair, this just wasn’t fair. This didn’t have anything to do with Finn. This was about Rita wanting to book her own group for the event.

This had to end. Harriet had to stop Skeeter once and for all. Harriet rose from the bed. She grabbed her school bag, took out her ink, quill, and parchment, and headed for the door.

“I have to fix this…” she said, passing Hermione and Scott.

“How?” Scott asked, perplexed. “I mean…”

Harriet didn’t listen. She was heading to the Owlery.

“I’m going to the Owlery. I’ll be back.”

Harriet hurried down the stairs and across the common room. Despite her hurry, she paused to look for Fred. Fred could help. Fred would know what to do. And yet, as she looked around, Fred was nowhere to be seen. Harriet sighed, and continued on her way. She got to the Owlery and saw Hedwig at once.

“Hedwig,” Harriet said, her throat tight. “I need you.”

Hedwig hooted and swooped down to sit beside Harriet on a bench.

“Thanks,” Harriet said under her breath as she rolled out the parchment and began to write.

 

_Dear Finn,_

_I just read that article. I can’t believe Skeeter has gone after you like this. She’s now attacked almost every one of my friends._

 

Harriet thought. Her eyebrows furrowed. Okay, maybe Rita Skeeter could overhear her conversations at Hogwarts, but could she read letters?

 

_I have something I have to tell you. I haven’t told anyone else this. Right now, I’m being blackmailed by Rita Skeeter. She’s not only making me take part in this gala, but she’s forced me to sign a contract giving her total control over interviews and all that. She’s threatening the closest thing to a family I have ever known, so I have to do it, and I can’t tell anyone. It’s been horrid, but I’ve not known how to do anything about it._

_I have to somehow get her to admit what she’s done and for people to believe her. What she’s doing is totally illegal, but it’s her word against mine. She even got my aunt and uncle to sign the contract too, so it’s my word against all of theirs. I don’t know what to do, but maybe if we work together, we can both bring her down so she doesn’t hurt anyone else._

_I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in all of this too. This would have been an amazing break for you. But if we work together, we can do this. Let me know as soon as you can if you can help, or have any idea what we could do._

 

_So sorry again,_

_Harriet_

 

Harriet folded the parchment and put it into the envelope. She tied it to Hedwig’s leg and stroked Hedwig’s fluffy head.

“Get this to Finn, at Rathlin,” Harriet said, urgently. “As fast as you can, okay?”

Hedwig hooted in a dignified way and at once spread her wings and flapped silently into the air and out the window. Harriet sighed. This was it. This was finally the moment. She was going to do something about it. She was going to get Rita Skeeter, she just knew it.

Harriet jumped as she heard voices coming from the open door to the staircase. She smiled at first as she recognized Fred’s voice. Hermione must have told him where she was and he came looking for her. She was going to call to him when she paused as she heard George’s voice as well, and he sounded none too pleased.

“—that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that—”

“—we’ve tried being polite. It’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did.”

“I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail! Besides, you’re the one who wanted to drop this!”

“Yeah, that was before I ended up with my dream girl who happens to be the most famous girl in the world,” Fred snapped.

Harriet’s stomach was churning. Fred was going to blackmail Bagman? Fred? Fred had promised her it was over. And now he was blackmailing him? For her?

“Mate, Harriet’s probably got more money than we could ever hope to make. The Potters were loaded. And really, you’re worried about that now? You’re only seventeen and fourteen! Just enjoy what you have now!”

“You’re one to talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just think of how well you could take care of Erica with this.”

“I won’t be able to if we wind up in Azkaban!”

Harriet rose. She stormed across the Owlery and slammed the door open the rest of the way. She was fuming. How could Fred do this? How could he think she would be okay with this?

Fred and George both nearly jumped out of their skins as the door crashed against the wall. Harriet felt her shoulders rising and falling as she breathed angrily, glaring down at them.

“Oh, h-hi,” Fred said in a very small voice. He couldn’t even bring himself to try and put on his usual air of bravado.

“Fred!” Harriet said, her hands clenched. “You said you dropped it…”

“I… well… yeah I did…”

George looked as though he wanted to melt through the floor as Harriet glared down at his twin. Harriet was still trembling.

“You said… now you’re blackmailing him… for money… for me…?”

“I… well… I-uh…”

Harriet kept staring at Fred. Slowly, her anger started to wan. She felt exhausted, and she really wanted to be alone. She started down the stairs towards the twins. Fred kept moving his mouth, as though he was trying to say something but no words came out. Harriet didn’t care. She didn’t want to hear them right now.

She passed between the two without looking at either. She didn’t hear a sound from either as she kept descending the stairs. Whether they continued on to send the letter or not, Harriet didn’t know. Nor, at the moment, did she particularly care.

## * * * *

The rest of the week Harriet felt the worst she had since Skeeter had first blackmailed her. She still wasn’t speaking to Fred. How could he do that? How could he think she would have approved?

Sure, Fred didn’t know anything about what Rita Skeeter was up to, but how did this make him any better than her? Harriet supposed the only real defence was that in Fred’s case, Bagman had conned him and George first. Still, Harriet couldn’t let go of the fact that Fred would do such a thing.

It gave her a twisted feeling in her stomach every time she saw Fred in the common room, or at meals, or passing in the hallway. Every time, Fred would give her a shamed look, avert his eyes, and either hurry away, or go back to whatever he was doing and pretend Harriet wasn’t there.

If she was honest with herself, she wanted things to go back to the way they were. She wanted to see his face break into a smile when it caught sight of her in the hallway. She wanted him to come up and hug her from behind as she worked on homework or the final task with her friends. Why? Why did everything good in her life have to fall apart so fast?

To make matters worse, she had not yet heard back from Finn, either. Hedwig had returned without a reply. So Harriet still had no clue how exactly she was going to deal with Rita Skeeter, either.

Fortunately, Harriet was still receiving the daily treats from Daniel, and her friends were doing their best to help her deal with her being upset with Fred. Dora was the most cheerful, though Harriet thought that had less to do with trying to cheer Harriet up and more to do with her being happy that things were looking so bleak for Harriet and Fred.

Harriet also found herself hanging out with Nanette and Rosie more often. She still didn’t know how exactly to relate to two second years, but they were still a laugh to have around. They sat in on almost all of Harriet’s planning session for the final task with her friends. They kept giving ideas for how to get through the maze, and each idea got wilder than the last. Their ideas ranged from conjuring a brush-cutter to just hack her way through the hedges, to conjuring giant springs on her shoes to bounce over them.

Then, with only four days to go until the gala, Harriet was surprised with a visit by Daniel. She had just left the Great Hall after breakfast when she saw him walking in through the front doors, pulling a sizeable trunk behind him.

“There she is,” Daniel grinned, laughing as he caught Harriet in her arms when she jumped up to hug him.

“Oof,” he grunted, laughing harder. “You’re growing so fast! Lucky I decided to stop in and check.”

Harriet rolled her eyes as Daniel let her back down. Harriet looked down at the trunk.

“So… what’s in there?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, a few of the designs for the gala,” Daniel explained.

Harriet’s smile became forced rapidly. That was definitely something she did not want to think about. However, the smile on Daniel’s face disarmed Harriet too quickly for her to protest.

“Really think you’ll like what I came up with,” Daniel explained as they headed up the main staircase.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” Daniel grinned. “Designed everything with you in mind.”

Harriet paused. “Me?”

“Of course,” Daniel chuckled.

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm.

They made their way to an empty classroom. Daniel shut the door and eagerly opened his trunk. Harriet stood back, watching as Daniel pulled out a standing changing curtain, and four dress forms, each already bearing and outfit. Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open as she took in the outfits. Daniel had designed them with her in mind indeed.

The first was a grey cardigan with navy trim, and white and navy striped cuffs. It had a light-blue button up shirt, and a navy tie. The bottom was a dark blue and green tartan pair of shorts. At the bottom was a pair of navy knee-socks with a thick cuff and black loafers.

The second was a grey blazer with thin red and navy pinstripes. It featured a white button up shirt, with a black, ribbon bow-tie. The skirt was grey and tweed, with two pleats in the front of a lighter grey. At the foot was a pair of black knee-socks which also had a thick cuff, and brown loafers, although these had a two-inch heels. Atop the form sat a matching black beret.

The third had a slate grey, solid colour blazer with white button up shirt and also had a ribbon tie. The skirt was tartan blue and green like the first, but diagonal, and the skirt was a-line. For this outfit, the socks were a soft crème colour, with a navy stripe around the top, and the shoes were black mary-janes with heels.

The final outfit was a silver blazer with a black trim and pinstripes. It had a white button up shirt, and a black bowtie with little white polka-dots. It featured a matching silver skirt with black pinstripes. Finally, it had black knee-socks, brown lace up booties, and topped off with a light-grey hat of a similar style to Fudge’s bowler.

“Wow…” Harriet whispered, looking them over.

“Heh… sort of… I don’t know, schoolgirl-chic I guess you could call it,” Daniel smiled, clearly pleased at Harriet’s reaction. “I know you like that vintage sort of Nancy Drew look and well… I mean…”

Daniel fumbled for words. He clearly was feeling both awkward, and proud.

“Sorry,” He muttered rubbing his neck. “Didn’t think you’d like them so much. I mean… they’re not exactly what people would wear in the street… these sort of shows demand a sort of dazzle and flair, but… I at least wanted you to be up there wearing outfits you’d feel comfortable in…”

Harriet crossed over to him, hugging him tight again.

“They’re amazing,” Harriet said, quite honestly.

Daniel’s grin grew and he ruffled her hair. “Good… from what I hear, you’ll only be wearing two of them. I’ve made a couple for each girl who’ll be up there, but I picked out the four I made the most with you in mind, and figured you could pick out your two favourites?”

Harriet nodded eagerly. She went to the fourth outfit, and pulled it behind the changing curtain. One by one, Harriet tried on the outfits in the reverse order Daniel had pulled them from the trunk. She had to admit, she was having a very difficult time deciding. Each one she liked more than the last. In the end, she decided on the first and last outfits Daniel had taken out.

Harriet liked the first in particular. It was comfortable and the most casual, something close to what she might actually wear. The second didn’t seem something she would normally wear, but it felt like the most stylish, and perhaps the one Daniel had worked the hardest on of the designs.

“Perfect,” Daniel grinned, now taking Harriet’s measurements to make the proper adjustments.

Harriet, however, didn’t exactly feel perfect. She kept looking back at the outfits. All of them had felt a little tight around the middle and shoulders.

Harriet was able to quickly put this from her mind, however. They quickly found Aurora, and together they gathered the twins and went for a picnic in the grounds. Harriet did feel a small pain, remembering her picnic dates with Fred, but she was laughing too much, and feeling too relaxed.

Harriet sighed several hours later as she watched Daniel leaving, once more dragging his big trunk behind him. Harriet and Nanette bid Aurora and Rosie good night before heading off to Gryffindor Tower together.

“That was lotsa fun,” Nanette grinned as they walked along. They were going slower than usual, as Nanette was focusing on not stepping on any cracks in the stone floor.

“Yeah,” Harriet smiled.

“It’s great having Mom and Dad so close now,” Nanette said.

Harriet paused. Nanette was calling Daniel ‘dad’ now, as well? She supposed it made sense, it was just something Harriet had never considered before. If Daniel was ‘Dad’, and the twins were now calling him that, then surely, Harriet should start thinking of Aurora as ‘Mum’. And the twins…

“OMIGOSH IT’S ADORABLE!”

Harriet came to her senses. Nanette was pointing at a nearby window. There was a small bird flapping outside it, making a low growling noise in apparent frustration. Harriet squinted to see the bird clearly through the dusty window. It was a puffin.

Harriet hurried over and opened the window. The little puffin settled on the window sill, apparently quite winded from its flight and attempt to get into the school.

“Must be from Rathlin,” Nanette said knowledgeably. “Wow, he’s tiny, even like… for a puffin.”

Harriet shook her head. “Who the devil are you looking for?” she asked under her breath.

The little puffin just tilted its head to look up at her.

“Me?” Harriet blinked.

The little puffin clacked its beak and held out its foot. Harriet reached down and read the address on the envelope of the letter attached to its foot.

 

_Harriet Potter_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 

Harriet gasped. It was for her. A bird from Rathlin come here for her. It had to be Finn finally.

Harriet took the letter and tore open the envelope, reading as fast as she could. Not that it took very long, the letter was very short.

 

_Harriet,_

_Meet Obelix. My puffin._

 

Harriet looked down at the little puffin again. It puffed up its feathers proudly and clacked its oversized beak. Somehow, it struck her as odd that a muggle like Finn would have a delivery bird. Then again, he did attend a school with witches and wizards. Maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.

Harriet returned her attention to the letter. The rest of the letter only had three words.

 

_I’ve got it._


	38. The Gala

“In my youth, I was a much different man than I am today. Knowing that a possible backlash would come against my family when we ascended the throne, I arranged to tour the other great houses under the guise of peace. In truth, I was studying each houses’ defences. I mapped the layouts of their lands, counted their forces, plotted their battlements. By the end of each visit, I knew as much about our potential enemies’ forces as they did. So when the attempted coup came, and our enemies tried to bring down their hammer, my counter-strikes had already been put in motion.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

_Trust me. I’ll see you at the gala. I’ll tell you all you need to know then._

That was it. That was all Finn’s reply said when his little puffin Obelix returned the night before the gala.

To say Harriet was frustrated would be one of the life’s great understatements. What did that mean? _Trust me_. How was she supposed to just trust him? What on earth was he planning?

Harriet barely slept. She tossed and turned for hours, and when she did sleep, she had nightmares about being stuck in a giant spider web as a massive spider with Rita Skeeter’s face laughed maniacally, coming closer and closer on her eight horrible legs.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Harriet muttered aloud as they sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

“Honestly, it’s not going to be that bad,” Dora said, using her kindest voice. “I mean, it’s not great, but it won’t last long. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Harriet sighed. Dora made it sound like it would just be tugging off a Band-Aid. She still did not know the whole story about Rita Skeeter, and how Harriet was stuck under her thumb if Finn’s mysterious plan didn’t come through.

Harriet looked around the Great Hall. Most of the students looked put out. She supposed they were all jealous because hardly any of them could afford to attend the gala. Harriet’s friends would all be coming. Dora and Scott’s parents had bought them all tickets. Harriet did find the fact that they would all be there a definite comfort.

Just then, a few seats down from Harriet, Basheera sprang to her feet and gave a cry of delight.

“ALAB!” she exclaimed gleefully before hurrying towards the doors.

Everyone looked around. There, standing in the doorway, was Basheera’s father, Prince Faysal. He wore his typical pure-white robes, and his face was lit with an enormous grin as he hugged Basheera close. Tall and wide of build, with a thick, bushy beard, Prince Faysal rather reminded Harriet of a smaller, much more boisterous Hagrid.

At the staff table, Professor Dumbledore rose and spread his arms in greeting.

“As-salāmu ʿalayka, Prince Faysal,” Professor Dumbledore called to Basheera’s father.

“Waʿalaykumu s-salām!” Prince Faysal replied cheerfully, waving at all the students.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” Professor Dumbledore asked, his moustache twitching in a way that told Harriet all too well that Professor Dumbledore knew exactly why Prince Faysal was here.

“I have come to… goodness,” Prince Faysal started to reply before looking around at all the students. “So many glum faces. Can it be that your Headmaster has not told you all the news?”

The students all stared in bemusement. Prince Faysal threw his head back and laughed.

“A surprise, then! I have procured tickets for all students to attend the Hogsmeade Gala! You are all to be my guests and make merry in the festivities!”

A silence fell over the Great Hall, then a roar of cheers. Prince Faysal laughed more before turning to look into the Entrance Hall.

“Chiswick! The tickets!”

At once, a shrewd looking, middle-aged man dressed in a sharp suit who Harriet assumed was Prince Faysal’s butler stepped into sight, carrying a large tray with four tall stacks of tickets on it. It looked to be one stack of tickets per house.

“My, what a marvellous gift,” Professor Dumbledore laughed. “Please, students, if you could all rise and file out by table and take your tickets. You may then return to your dormitories to fetch any money you should wish to spend. We will all gather in the Entrance Hall in twenty minutes and make our way down to the Gala as a school, together.”

“What about us?” little Dennis Creevey asked, standing up on his seat to try and see better over the heads of everyone else.

Professor Dumbledore laughed openly.

“Well of course, young Master Creevey, our guest Prince Faysal did say ‘all’ did he not? Now please, line up and we may start the festivities!”

Once more, the Great Hall erupted with noise. Harriet couldn’t help but grin. Even the first and second years would get to go? It was a truly wonderful gift.

The students were eager to get their tickets, but heeded Professor Dumbledore’s words. First the Gryffindors, then the Hufflepuffs, then the Ravenclaws, and finally the Slytherins all filed past, taking their tickets from the tray. As Harriet was part of an event at the gala, she did not need one, nor did her friends, as they made their way into the Entrance Hall with the rest of the school.

Students were scrambling to get to their dormitories. Harriet and her friends already had their bags, and so lingered in the Entrance Hall waiting for the rest of the students to return. The atmosphere in the hall was positively electric as it began to fill up with students again. Even Harriet couldn’t help but smile as she stood in the sea of grins and happy gossip.

“That was so kind of your father,” Hermione said approvingly to Basheera as they found her in the crowd.

Basheera beamed. “Father bought the tickets ages ago, but he wanted it to be a surprise. I wrote and told him about the gala and that the tickets were too expensive for any of the students to afford to attend.”

“Ah-hah!” Prince Faysal’s voice boomed out as he stepped up to them in the crowd. “My Basheera and her good friends! A pleasure to see you all again!”

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, sir,” Scott replied cheerfully.

“Join me on the walk!” Prince Faysal declared. “I wish to know you all better. Basheera speaks so highly of you all.”

Harriet glanced at Basheera. Her cheeks were a deep red. Harriet gave her smile that she hoped came across as comforting as the massive group began to move towards the doors into the grounds.

“So, you are Harriet Potter, the most famous of witches I am told by Basheera?” Prince Faysal asked.

Harriet now felt a small sense of shock at being addressed by the prince directly.

“I… I uh… well…”

Prince Faysal laughed. “She also said you are too modest. You have accomplished much that those several multiples of times older than you have ever done.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Harriet stammered.

Fortunately, Prince Faysal turned his attention to Hermione. He made her blush as well, praising her on her academic vigour. As they walked, Harriet couldn’t help but notice Neville, who Harriet thought had always been rather sweet on Basheera, was keeping them in sight, but keeping his distance. Harriet thought he perhaps wanted to speak to Prince Faysal as well, but being Neville, was too timid.

Harriet supposed she didn’t blame him. Prince Faysal was an intimidating personality in his own right, with his booming laugh and the fact he more yelled than spoke. Then there was the fact that he was a prince.

They continued on down the path to Hogsmeade and through the gates. All the while Prince Faysal questioned them about their adventures, their lessons, and life in general at Hogwarts. Basheera hung back, Harriet noticed, and did not speak much. Clearly, she was profoundly embarrassed to have her father talking to her friends so openly. Neville it seemed noticed, and caught up with her, the two talking quietly to each other.

Finally, they reached Hogsmeade. A large banner stretched over the entrance, and several ticket booths. The group slowed to a crawl at this point as students filed through the booths one by one, showing their tickets. Harriet gritted her teeth. It was shortly after ten in the morning. The fashion show would be at one o’clock. She had to be there by twelve-thirty to prepare.

What’s more, she had to somehow find Finn. At least she assumed so. He had to actually be here to be able to carry out his secret plan, or whatever he had going on.

“Oh, wow,” Ronnie gawped as they finally made it through the ticket booths.

Harriet gasped as well. All of the wreckage had been cleared away. Now, the high street was lined either side with large vendor tents, all set where the former shops had been. She felt her heart skip with glee as she saw a tent in the spot where Daniel’s shop had been, and sure enough there was a large sign declaring: _FUTURE SITE OF NEWLY REBUILT_ DUSK TIL DAWN _WIZARDING/MUGGLE CLOTHING SHOPPE._

“Oh how wonderful!” Hermione declared, noticing.

“Look, there’s one for the Three Broomsticks, too!” Ronnie chimed in. “And Zonko’s! And Honeydukes!”

As the tallest, Ronnie kept popping up on tip-toe to spot out all the attractions. All of the shops had their best goods on display, advertising what had been lost and what would be returned to the historic little town. On either side of each tent were placards showing pictures of the buildings before they were destroyed, and plans for how the rebuilt structures would look.

“Blimey,” Kieran said studying one of the displays. “This town barely changed in at least a hundred years…”

“Yeah, wonder how different it will look after it’s rebuilt?” Marcus mused, moving to the new building plans board.

“Not much,” Scott admitted. “Mum and Dad said that it’ll mostly be built back to look exactly like it used to.”

“Yeah,” Dora agreed. “Wizards are kinda picky about stuff like that. We’re not huge on the whole ‘change’ thing.”

“Well, either way, it looks like it’ll be great,” Kieran said cheerfully.

“I wanna see Daniel’s tent,” Harriet said, hurrying over without waiting for the others to respond.

She couldn’t see any of the Marauders with the racks and racks of clothing filling the area under the tent. She was surprised that Daniel had this much inventory left after the attack. Then again, she supposed he had probably been busy making more ever since the attack.

Finally, she found her way to the register where Remus and Sirius were smiling down at her expectantly.

“Ah, there she be!” Sirius laughed, catching Harriet in a tight hug.

“Here I be,” Harriet grinned, before hurrying over to hug Remus as well. She looked around, expectantly. “Where’s Daniel?”

“Getting ready,” Remus chuckled. “He’s got rather more work to do than you, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I guess that’s true,” Harriet admitted, feeling a little silly.

Of course Daniel would be busy. He had to make sure all the outfits for the show were ready. Harriet doubted she and Alessa would be the only ones wearing them.

“It looks to be a marvellous success so far,” Remus observed, smiling at the crowd. “Despite the steep admission price.”

“Yeah, how did so many kids afford a twenty-galleon ticket?” Sirius pondered, scratching his beard.

“Basheera’s father bought tickets for the entire school,” Harriet explained. “Even the first and second years it seems.”

Sirius and Remus blinked.

“That’s… that’s got to be at least twenty-thousand Galleons,” Sirius stammered.

“Who the devil has that much money?” Remus asked, shaking his head.

“Basheera’s father is… you know… how does Basheera’s father have that much money?” Ronnie asked. “She’s never said.”

“Well, she’s from Kuwait,” Hermione chimed in. “It’s a country that’s rich in oil.”

Ronnie gave her a blank stare.

Hermione sighed. “It’s this stuff that comes out of the ground. It used to be organic matter from the ancient past, like the time of the dinosaurs. That’s why they’re called fossil fuels. Muggles use it to power cars and factories and such.”

“Muggles are so weird,” Ronnie said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Well, anyway, it’s worth a lot of money as a result,” Hermione continued. “I’m sure spending that much money on these tickets was almost nothing to Basheera’s father.”

They bid Remus and Sirius farewell and continued exploring the tents. Every tent seemed to be doing well. All of the students had missed Hogsmeade terribly, and all were in a hurry to buy up as much as they could. Even more fun was to see the wonder on the little faces of the first and second years, who ordinarily wouldn’t have had the chance.

Unfortunately, Harriet’s good cheer did not last very long.

“Well _hello,_ Harriet.”

Harriet froze, then cringed. Rita Skeeter had found her.

“What do you want?” Dora asked, stepping up between Rita and Harriet as Harriet turned to look at her possibly least favourite person in the entire world.

“Temper, temper, missy,” Rita Skeeter said coolly, giving Dora a dismissive look down her nose. “Miss Potter and I have an appointment after her big break on the stage today.”

Harriet’s friends all gave her stunned and highly confused looks. Harriet grimaced and swallowed.

“It’s… just a little interview…” Harriet said.

“With her?” Ronnie asked in disgust.

“Y-yeah,” Harriet mumbled.

“Oh, I think this’ll be quite the interview,” Rita smirked. “Dear me, how much has happened at Hogwarts since last we spoke… I’m sure you can shed considerable light on the mysterious case of Mr Crouch’s untimely death, and where-oh-where old Mad-Eye has ambled off too…?”

Harriet glared. She couldn’t tell Rita that. And yet, how could she refuse to tell Rita anything? Where the hell was Finn?

“Well, I’ll leave you to enjoy the festivities,” Rita said, hoisting her heavy bag higher up her shoulder. “Do be a dear and be available. I find people who’re unreliable tend to face unpleasant consequences…”

Harriet’s stomach tied itself in knots. Rita simply smirked and disappeared into the crowd.

“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Marcus asked.

“Harriet, what’s going on?” Kieran asked.

Harriet looked at them. They were all giving her confused looks, and yet their stares all felt accusatory.

“I… I-well…”

Harriet couldn’t find words. She was starting to feel very small, and the crowd was moving in closer and closer on her.

“I-I need something to drink.”

Before anyone could say anything, Harriet turned and pushed her way into the crowd away from them. She heard them calling but didn’t stop. Before she knew it, she was halfway up the high-street, between Zonko’s and Dervish & Banges. She paused, looking around, about to catch her breath when a strong hand landed heavily on her shoulder and pulled her into the gap between the tents.

Harriet gave out a cry of surprise and turned, reaching for her wand but stopped when she found herself face to face, at long last, with Finn.

“Finn!” Harriet shouted, half in shock, half in anger.

“Ow!” Finn grunted as Harriet punched him in the shoulder.

“You scared the hell out of me!” Harriet continued, hitting his shoulder again.

“Well I’m not—stop that!—supposed to be here!” Finn replied, catching Harriet’s hand, stopping her hitting him a third time.

“You’re what?” Harriet asked, regaining her composure slightly.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Finn explained, looking out at the street, suspiciously. “They didn’t just kick me out of the band, they barred me from even being here.”

“Then how did you get here?” Harriet asked.

Finn shrugged. “Professor Howe.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Right. Stupid question.”

Finn snorted. “Anyway, right, saw you talking to Skeeter. She say where your interview’s going to take place yet?”

Harriet blinked. “N-no… just sometime after the fashion show, I think.”

Finn snorted again in frustration. “Dammit. Feckin’ hag. Right, I’ll keep following her.”

“Finn, what are you up to?” Harriet demanded. “Tell me!”

“Can’t” Finn said simply. “Talked it out with Colm and Portia. You wizards got some kinda thing where like you can read minds, and potions that make you tell the truth. Skeeter uses either of those on you and figures out what I got planned it’ll all be buggered and this was all for nothing.”

Harriet shook her head in frustration, giving Finn an exasperated look of disbelief. It was then that she noticed he seemed… different. He was certainly not the same Finn she had met at the Hallowe’en party, or even the Yule Ball. His face was set, in a way that looked as though he’d never smiled once in his life. He was dressed in drab, mostly dark grey clothing, and wearing a peaky cap pulled low. He was also clean-shaven, which Harriet grudgingly admitted was a considerable improvement.

“Then what am I supposed to do in all this?” Harriet asked, crossing her arms.

“Do your best to piss her off,” Finn said, still not really looking at Harriet, his eyes scanning the passing crowds. “Just get her to admit what she’s up to. All you gotta do.”

“How do I do that?”

Finn shrugged. “Sure you’ll think of a way.”

He glanced down at her finally. His bright blue eyes were set and determined, unblinking. Harriet’s stomach suddenly felt much lighter than normal.

“Just argue with her. Anything. Call her out somehow. That’s all you need to do. Alessa says Rita loves to gloat, loves to rub things in. You can do it. Trust me, you can be completely infuriating when you have to be.”

Harriet’s glare returned. Yet, despite his stony face, Harriet couldn’t help but notice the tiniest twinkle in his eye as he said that last bit before he looked out at the crowd again.

“Your mates are coming. I gotta take off. Remember, just piss her off.”

Harriet looked around at the crowd. Sure enough, all her friends were coming closer, looking around with concern. Harriet sighed. She really should go back to them. She turned back to Finn, wanting to finally, and sincerely, thank him for helping but instead found herself standing completely alone in the little gap.

Where had he gone? Harriet moved to the back of the tents, peeking around the corners. Finn was nowhere to be seen.

Harriet shook her head in disbelief. Was Finn lying about being a Muggle? Had he just disaparated or something? With nothing else for it, she turned and headed back onto the high street to the rest of her group.

“There you are,” Hermione said, hugging Harriet tight.

Harriet was staggered slightly at this reaction. She fully expected them to still be angry.

“Sorry,” Kieran said as Hermione let go. “We didn’t mean to gang up on you like that… we were just surprised.”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “I imagine having to do something with Skeeter was kind of part and parcel of doing the gala?”

Harriet bit her lip. It was the truth, just the other way around.

“Yeah,” Harriet sighed. “That’s… yeah kind of why I haven’t wanted to say much… I didn’t want you all getting upset…”

“Well, yeah we don’t like it,” Ronnie said. “But we’d have understood…”

_No, not if you really knew_ , Harriet thought to herself, miserably.

“Well, let’s not let that spoil an otherwise wonderful day,” Hermione said, sounding more cheerful. “We still have an hour until you have to check in for the show, and it’s almost lunch-time.”

“Yeah, I could definitely stand to eat,” Harriet agreed, feeling more relaxed now.

They made their way to the tent where the Three Broomsticks used to be. They bought some sandwiches and butterbeer for lunch. They then headed back up the high street. Scott said that Colm was still broadcasting for Rathlin’s wireless and was more than a little eager to see him.

They did find a Rathlin booth, but unfortunately Colm was not there. Instead, Dora’s old friend Krystelle was there, along with Gaius, the boy they met in the woods at the World Cup, and Portia Figg, the girl who had danced with Finn at the Hallowe’en party.

According to Krystelle, Colm was in the ‘donors zone,’ a special area where the actual fashion show and big events were to take place, and those who donated money would be treated with luxury. Out here, meanwhile, Krystelle and the rest were taking small donations from passing students and guests.

Harriet studied Portia in particular. Something about her last name, Figg, suddenly piqued Harriet’s memory. She had always thought it an odd coincidence with her batty old neighbour, Mrs Figg, but she now remembered Professor Dumbledore mentioning someone named Figg being part of the Order of the Phoenix. She wondered if Portia was related in some way to that Figg.

Finally, Harriet could dawdle no longer. It was quarter past noon, and with these crowds it would take her some time to reach the special stage. Her friends went with her as far as they could, but were stopped at the gate to the roped off area around the large stage. Harriet waved back at them before heading inside.

The special donor area was a night and day difference from the main event on the high-street. All the witches and wizards were standing around, talking and laughing in floaty, self-important voices, sipping champagne and eating exotic hors d'oeuvres from trays being carried around by a veritable army of house elves.

There was a semi-circle of dining tables under umbrellas arrayed in front of the stage, all set with glinting silver flatware. She supposed there would be a dinner or luncheon of sort as the show went on. She was sure the poor house elves were being worked to death to provide for the event.

The stage itself was backed by shimmering, silky black cloth. Harriet saw a set of instruments on the stage with _The Weird Sisters_ emblazoned on the drum set. She felt a tiny bit of bitterness at this. It should be Finn performing. Rita just wanted to book the _Weird Sisters_ , probably to get some sort of fee.

Just then, sitting at one of the tables, Harriet spotted someone she recognized, and thoroughly had not expected to see. It was Lord Darius, the vampire from the World Cup and the night of the attack on Hogsmeade. He was leaning back in the shade, smiling quite pleasantly at the surrounding crowd, pausing to take neat sips from a steaming mug beside him on the table.

Unsure of why, Harriet made her way over to him. Lord Darius spotted her at once and gave her a warm, closed mouth smile.

“Ah, if it is not Miss Harriet Potter, eroină, a pleasure it is to see you again,” Lord Darius said charmingly as she reached him.

“H-hello, sir,” Harriet said.

Lord Darius’ lips twitched. “Surprised to see a vampire enjoying the festivities?”

“W-well…”

“It’s easy enough when you donate money and the guards are not looking too closely,” Lord Darius said, taking another sip from the mug.

Harriet looked at the mug with apprehension, when she noticed its contents were a dark brown, almost black. Lord Darius chuckled.

“You were expecting blood?”

Harriet suddenly felt even more stupid than normal.

“No, simple coffee,” Lord Darius said, setting the mug back down on its saucer. “We _are_ primarily nocturnal, and so we need a bit of a boost to make it through daylight hours.”

Lord Darius studied her, and Harriet saw concern sweep over his face. “You are deeply troubled, child… by more than just the pending third task.”

Harriet’s throat tightened. She supposed she must have looked less than happy.

“Well, rest assured,” Lord Darius continued. “From the mutterings I have overheard… your most recent worries will soon be abated.”

Harriet blinked. “What?”

Lord Darius’ black eyes twinkled. “ _Trust me_.”

Harriet slowly backed up. Lord Darius simply continued to smile at her as she big him a good afternoon and hurried towards the back of the stage. She paused once he was out of sight, catching her breath before looking around.

There, she spotted a door marked ‘changing rooms’ and hustled over. She opened the door and peeked inside.

“Harriet!” exclaimed a voice.

At once, a hand grabbed Harriet’s arm and pulled her into the room. Harriet looked up and recognized Alessa Selene.

“Alessa!” Harriet said in relief.

“Oh, Harriet,” Alessa said, looking stricken. “Finn told me everything! I’m so sorry! I can’t believe Skeeter’s doing this to you!”

Harriet grimaced. “Oh… he did?”

“Of course!” Alessa said, brushing her hair back from her face. “He’s been working like crazy on how to bring Skeeter down ever since you wrote him and told him the truth.”

“He has?” Harriet asked, taken aback at this.

“Yes,” Alessa said, leading Harriet over to some chairs, sitting. “He was devastated…”

“Yeah,” Harriet muttered. “This would have been a huge break for him.”

Alessa blinked. “What?”

“Well, getting to perform at this show,” Harriet said. “That would have been huge for him, wouldn’t it?”

Alessa blinked again. “Finn didn’t care about the show… he’s mad about what it did to Colm…”

Harriet grimaced. “Oh… yeah…”

Alessa was about to speak more when a woman stepped into the room. She looked sternly at Harriet, then at Alessa.

“It’s time girls,” the woman said curtly. “No time for chit chat. To business.”

“Yes, Mum,” Alessa said quickly.

In an instant, Alessa became a completely different person. She stood up and took Harriet’s hand again, pulling her to her feet.

“This way,” Alessa said, leading Harriet past the woman and into the hallway.

Harriet glanced back at the woman. She continued to give Harriet a hard, calculating look, as though Harriet was a threat.

“Mum’s annoyed about you being in the show,” Alessa said once they were out of earshot of the woman. “Thinks you’ll steal my thunder. Like I could give two shits about that anymore.”

Harriet was about to respond when they were whisked into another room by a pair of witches. Before Harriet could think, she was sitting in a chair, a large cloth draped around her neck, and one of the witches was styling her hair.

“The hair takes the longest,” Alessa sighed from the chair to Harriet’s left.

Harriet took a moment to glance  around the room.

“Are we the only two?” she asked, amazed.

“Oh no,” Alessa replied. “Bex, Cal, Effie, Farah, and Gianna are around somewhere. They… they don’t really need this like you and I do.”

“Huh?”

Alessa simply smiled at Harriet in the mirror and fell silent as the other witch started working on her make-up. Harriet sighed in frustration. She was starting to regret having been so secretive this year. So many people refusing to tell her things was getting maddening. With all the secrets Harriet had been keeping, her friends must have been going spare.

“Right,” the witch who had worked on Harriet’s hair and make-up said, whipping off the cloth with remarkable speed and yet not mussing up any of Harriet’s hair. “Off to the clothes fitting, girls.”

“Thanks, Cindy,” Alessa said, rising and leading Harriet from that room and down the corridor to the last room.

Upon entering, Harriet’s stomach clenched. She found herself regretting this fashion show even more as she was forced to look into the eyes Rita Skeeter.

“Ah, here they are,” Rita said smugly. “Now, are we all ready for the game-plan, girls?”

“Whatever,” said another girl’s voice, sounding board.

Harriet looked around and felt her eyebrows jump halfway up her forehead. There were five girls lounging on a couch, looking completely unconcerned with what was going on.

They were five of the most beautiful girls Harriet had ever seen. They were all very tall and graceful, almost delicate. She supposed they were the girls that Alessa had mentioned, and if so, Alessa had a point that they did not need any work on their make-up or hair. One of them had flowing, almost radiant red hair that put any Weasley to shame. Another looked Indian, while two she thought were maybe Korean and a final one looked Japanese.

“Right,” Rita hissed angrily, glaring at the five other girls.

“Rita wanted girls from her usual agency, but Professor Howe beat her to the punch with these girls, and she couldn’t dig up any dirt on them,” Alessa whispered in Harriet’s ear when Rita turned away for a moment.

“Well, this is a little different than a usual runway show,” Rita said, regaining her composure.

“Oh?” Alessa asked.

“Yes, this is also an auction,” Rita replied. “So instead of the usual down and back, you’ll walk up the stage to the crowd, stand for twenty seconds in the middle, then walk to the right, pose for another twenty seconds, back to the middle, pose for twenty, to the left and pose for twenty, to the middle for a final pose, then back. You’ll do that for each outfit.”

“Ugh,” the redhead grunted, “that’ll take forever.”

“That’s the point,” Rita snapped. “The bidders need time to make their decision and place their bids!”

“Fiiiiine,” sighed the Japanese girl lazily.

“Well get dressed,” Rita growled in frustration at the girls. “You have five minutes until the show starts!”

Harriet felt a sense of panic come over her as the room sprang to life. Harriet scarcely had time to think before a rack of clothes was pushed into the room by even more hurried witches. Two of them pushed Harriet over to the rack, and quickly started stripping her from her normal clothes.

“Hey,” Harriet protested.

“No time, dear,” one of the witches said. “Just get changed. You’re second one on after Alessa.”

“Just watch from back stage and follow my lead,” Alessa said, her voice muffled as she took off her jumper.

In mere minutes, Harriet was redressed in the first outfit she had picked out from Daniel’s visit. She looked around at the other girls. Alessa was wearing a smart navy blazer with red trim, a blue button up shirt, little blue tie, navy socks that came all the way up over her knees, and dark brown loafers with heels.

The other girls’ outfits were much the same, varying all on the preppy, chic, school style. Harriet wondered who was who. Alessa had said their names, but never actually introduced Harriet to any of them.

“Right, girls, line-up, line-up,” one of the witches said, ushering them all into line.

Alessa was first, then Harriet, then the red-headed one, then one of the two Korean girls, then the Japanese girl and the Indian girl.

“Calla,” the redhead whispered in Harriet’s ear.

“What?” Harriet asked, looking back.

“I’m Calla,” she said. “Farah and Gianna behind me, then Effie and Bexley.”

“Um, charmed,” Harriet stuttered.

She was about to say more when the music started. She recognized the song from the Yule Ball as the Weird Sisters began to play. She could just hear Rita Skeeter saying something over the music, but not well enough to understand her. She supposed the crowd would be able to hear her better.

A witch beckoned the girls to follow. In a line, she led them out into the hallway, coming up to a line of curtains. Harriet suddenly felt weak in the knees. They were just behind the stage now. This was it. Nothing to save her now. It was about to happen. Alessa gave Harriet a comforting smile over her shoulder.

“Go, dear!” the witch said, tapping Alessa’s shoulder.

Alessa tossed her hair, and in an instant was out onto the stage. Harriet leaned forward, peeking through the gap. Alessa strutted across the stage with a practiced grace, her hips swaying as she walked up the stage. Harriet was amazed at how well she did that in heels. Her feet seemed to land on the opposite sides of where they should, pounding down the stage to the same beat as the music.

Harriet felt herself starting to tremble as she watched. Alessa reached the front of the stage where Rita had told them to stop, and posed. For twenty agonizing seconds, Harriet watched before Alessa turned and strutted over to the far right of the stage and resumed posing.

Harriet’s stomach churned as she took in the spectacle. She shouldn’t have eaten so much for lunch. She didn’t feel cute. She didn’t feel pretty. She felt terrified.

Finally, Alessa came strutting back, giving Harriet her best attempt at an encouraging smile. Harriet took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when the witch tapped her shoulder, she stepped out.

She froze immediately. She had only made it two steps onto the stage when the flash of camera bulbs stopped her. She blinked and tried to regain her composure. The witch behind her gave her a little shove and Harriet started forward again.

She didn’t strut as Alessa had. She just walked normally, feeling the most timid and powerless she had in her entire life. She reached the front of the stage, looking around. How was she supposed to pose? She did her best, turning this way and that, trying to smile at the crowd.

Suddenly, Harriet remembered she was supposed to wait for twenty seconds than move on. How long had she posed already? Ten seconds? Fifteen? Harriet counted to five, then moved to the right as Alessa had. She reached the spot where Alessa had stopped and tried to pose again.

She looked down at the crowd again. Every eye was on her. Here and there, hands raised up little paddles and Rita read off the bids. Harriet felt tiny. She felt like a piece of meat, something a crowd of hungry monsters were ready to eat up.

She counted to twenty and made her way back to the middle of the stage. It was then that she noticed something. Sitting at the back was a woman, wearing all black, wearing a head-scarf and big black sunglasses, smoking a thin cigarette from a long, thin cigarette holder. Every time a big was placed, she bid as well, beating the previous bid.

Harriet moved to the left. Still, the woman was outbidding everyone else. Back to the middle, and still the woman kept bidding. With relief, Harriet turned and headed back for the curtains. She did all she could to keep from running as she reached the safety of the curtains.

She might as well have. No sooner had she moved out of sight from the stage than another of the witches forced her back down to the changing room. There, they began stripping her again, dressing her quickly in the second outfit.

“Merlin, what agency are you from?” one of the witches asked in frustration. “What kind of performance was that?”

“Leave her alone,” Alessa snapped, nearly done changing into her second outfit, a blue button up shirt with red pinstripes and a white collar, blue tartan tie, grey pleated tweed skirt, navy ankle-socks with red trim, and the same brown loafers, topped off with a tiny top-hat.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to catwalk?” another witch asked.

“I said back off,” Alessa growled. “She’s never done this before. That’s Harriet Potter.”

Both witches who had been changing Harriet froze.

“What?” One of them asked, brushing aside Harriet’s fringe and gasping at the sight of her scar.

“Oh Merlin! Harriet Potter! Oh so, so sorry!” one of the witches said.

“Let’s just get you dressed,” the other said, and they finished getting Harriet changed into the second outfit.

Harriet said nothing further to either of them. If anything, she wanted to draw her wand and curse them into bugs. Instead, she simply headed out after Alessa, getting back in line.

“Thanks…” Harriet whispered to Alessa.

“Don’t mention it,” Alessa grinned back at her. “See this is what I warned you about. They like to brow-beat you like that. Just jealous. Plus, keeping you timid and submissive lets the agency keep pushing you around too. But not anymore… not for me…”

“Alessa?”

Alessa simply winked at Harriet but said no more as the line moved again. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She could do this. Just one more time out and back. She could do this.

Alessa went for the last time. Harriet kept taking her deep breaths. Alessa passed in front of Harriet again and Harriet forced herself to head out before the witch even tapped her shoulder.

She still did not strut, but she did her best to carry her head higher. This wasn’t so bad, she told herself as she reached the front of the stage and started counting down. In fact, this was sort of stupid. Just standing her trying to ‘look pretty.’

Harriet moved to the right. As she did, she glanced at the woman in the back. Yet again, she was outbidding everyone else. What was strange was she didn’t even look all that interested. She kept sipping her champagne and automatically raising her little paddle every time someone else bid. Harriet wondered if it was just her outfits the woman was buying, or every outfit.

Harriet gave a huge exhale of relief as she finally passed the safety of the curtains once more. Alessa was waiting and pulled Harriet into a hug.

“You did it!” Alessa said.

“Yeah,” Harriet blushed at being hugged by the taller, very pretty girl.

“We’ll just do one more time out to the edge, and take our bows,” Alessa explained.

“Did you see that woman?” Harriet asked.

“The one in all black?” Alessa asked.

“Yeah!” Harriet confirmed. “Did she outbid everyone on your outfits, too?”

“She did!” Alessa said. “I thought that was so weird.”

“Me too,” Harriet agreed.

“She bid on mine, too,” Bexley said, looking back at the pair.

“Wonder who she is…” Alessa muttered.

Finally, it was time for the last trip out. Harriet actually felt herself smiling slightly with relief as she followed Alessa. She had done it. Once more, she had survived something that had terrified her for months. And it had been easy. No sweat at all.

The girls spread out at the front of the stage, Harriet and Alessa in the middle. Harriet took Alessa’s hand, then Calla’s. They all bowed at once. Then one by one, they all individually bowed. From right to left they bowed as Rita announced their names. Then just as Alessa bowed, all five of the other girls whispered something Harriet could not hear, but she felt a tingle in the air that she recognized all too well as magic.

Alessa practically jumped up. As Harriet looked up at her, her jaw fell open. It wasn’t Alessa standing next to her anymore. Harriet recognized the girl at once. She had seen her last summer at Hermione’s. Alessa Selene was not Alessa Selene, just as she said. Alessa Selene was Fern Mantovani.

“That’s right!” Fern cried out at the shocked crowd.

More camera bulbs flashed as Fern spread her arms wide, her face triumphant.

“That’s right!” Fern repeated. “Meet the real me! Fern Mantovani!”

“FERN!” shrieked the woman that Fern had called her mother, storming out onto the stage. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“I’m done!” Fern shouted back.

Fern’s face looked positively gleeful, but Harriet couldn’t help but notice some other unsettling things about Fern. For instance, she looked even thinner than she had the last summer. Her skin didn’t seem to have quite the same glow to it, and her eyes had lost some of their luster.

“I’m done! I’m out! I’m not your little doll anymore!” Fern cried. “Behold everyone! The real Alessa Selene! Forced by this bitch to look pretty for you all her whole life! This is what she turned little Wendy the Wandless Witch into!”

The crowd was starting to sound angry, though Harriet could tell it was not at Fern. Instead, they were booing and hissing her mother who was trying to drag Fern off the stage.

“FERN!”

Harriet looked around. Somehow, Hermione had managed to force her way past the guards and was standing in the middle of the tables. Fern’s face broke into the brightest smile Harriet thought she had ever seen. As she did, Fern looked the prettiest Harriet had ever seen her.

“HERMIONE!” Fern shrieked and kicked off her heels, running to the edge of the stage and jumping down off it.

Hermione ran forwards as well, and the girls both caught each other half way. A roar of cheers rose from the gathered crowd. Fern’s mother was raging. Rita Skeeter looked beside herself with glee, her Qwik-Quotes Quill already out and scribbling furiously.

Harriet looked around. The other five girls were gone. She looked towards the back of the stage. She just caught sight of Bexley disappearing behind the curtain. Calla was right behind her. Calla paused however. She caught Harriet’s eye and gave a little smirk. She touched a finger to her lips in a “shhhh” gesture. Harriet’s jaw dropped. As she watched, Calla’s ears sprouted out long and pointed. Her nose flattened into a black button, not unlike the ones the fawns had. Her skin turned a soft, fawnish red with some white spots on her cheeks, before she winked and stepped out of sight.

Harriet hurried after them. She reached the curtains and looked around. The girls weren’t there. She then looked in the changing rooms, the make-up rooms, and the waiting room. They had all vanished, just as Finn had. Harriet leaned back against a wall, shaking her head. This was turning out to be the weirdest day she could ever remember. And it was far from over yet.

## * * * *

Harriet felt slightly aimless as she stepped out onto the back-step of the changing rooms. The area was vacant. With all the hullabaloo going on out front, she supposed everyone had gone to watch.

Harriet stepped down onto the ground. She was still wearing the second outfit. Her hair was still curled and done up. She still felt the make-up on her face. And yet, she felt hollow.

Everything that had happened had been a complete blur. She barely remembered arriving, changing, any of it. It was like it hadn’t  actually happened at all. Like it was all a dream.

What the hell were those five girls? Clearly they weren’t human. Or at least not entirely human. What had they done to Alessa—no, Fern. How had they broken through that charm?

Harriet sighed. She was just about to sit down on the step when she heard the sound of approaching feet. Someone was coming towards her in a big hurry. Without even needing to see who it was, Harriet knew. She stood again just as Daniel rounded the corner. His face was stricken, and his skin was pale.

“Harriet!” he exclaimed and rushed towards her.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Harriet could barely move. She still felt too in shock and so just let him hug her.

Daniel was talking, but his words were barely registering. He kept apologizing, she heard him repeating ‘sorry’ over and over again. Slowly, Harriet hugged him back.

“I had no idea they were going to make it that stupid auction thing…” Daniel said, hugging her even tighter. “Oh god, sweetie I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I let them put you through that…”

Harriet just kept hugging him back. It wasn’t Daniel’s fault, yet for the first time Harriet could remember, a tiny sliver of anger had lodged itself in her mind. He should have stopped it. Should have beaten back all the guards and come to her. Taken her away from that hell.

_Stop it_ , said the little voice in her head, _he didn’t know, this was Skeeter’s fault. This is all Skeeter’s fault. And you’re going to stop her._

“It’s… it’s okay…” Harriet finally said, after Daniel said ‘I’m sorry’ for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You’re still so brave…” Daniel said, leaning back finally to look at her. “That took so much courage…”

Harriet blushed and shrugged. “Not really… look how well Ale—I mean, Fern…”

Daniel shook his head. “That poor girl’s been forced to do that her whole life… you just walked out there and…”

Daniel sighed as shame fell over his face again.

“Did… did you at least make a lot of money off it…? To help the shop?” Harriet asked. She figured if she had to have gone through that, she should at least have accomplished something for Daniel in doing so.

“Oh sweetie, that’s not important,” Daniel said pulling her into another hug.

“Yes it is,” Harriet said. “It’s why I did it…”

Daniel sighed once more. “Yes, sweetie… every design sold…”

Harriet hugged him tighter. That was a relief at least.

“Was it all that woman in black?” Harriet asked.

Daniel gave an exasperated laugh. “Yes, it was bizarre…”

“Who is she?” Harriet asked.

Daniel shrugged. “Don’t know… haven’t had the chance to speak with her… I was trying to get to you.”

“Then look no further.”

Daniel turned. Harriet leaned over to look past him. There she was, the woman in black. She had removed her sunglasses, and headscarf. Her hair was every bit as black as her dress. Her eyes however were a bright blue, though she wore heavy eye-shadow and eye-liner that made her eyes even more striking, and almost imperious as she looked upon the pair.

“Oh, hello there,” Daniel said, rising to his full height again.

The woman strode closer, holding out her hand. Daniel took it, bending down low over it before rising again.

“I must thank you for your interest in my designs, Miss…?”

“Irene,” the woman said. Her accent was American. “Adele Irene. Headmistress…”

Harriet furrowed her brow. Headmistress? Of what school?

“Oh?” Daniel asked, clearly wondering the same thing.

“Salem Witches Institute,” Adele Irene replied.

“Oh, oh!” Daniel stammered. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your school, Madame Irene,” he went on.

“Yes, war is hell,” Adele Irene said dismissively. “The school will be rebuilt, and I think it needs a more modern flair. Your designs were perfect. Shall we sit down to discuss the brass tacks?”

“I—well, I would love to, but I’m actually a bit busy right at the moment,” Daniel said awkwardly, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

Harriet flushed, looking up at Daniel. Somehow, in spite of how close they were, to the extent she now thought of him as her father, it never ceased to surprise Harriet whenever Daniel would put her first.

Adele Irene gave them a smile that did not extend to her eyes.

“Ah, but of course,” she said, her eyes boring into Harriet’s. They were so piercing that Harriet wanted to look away, and yet she couldn’t.

“In that case,” Adele Irene continued, and from nowhere produced a small card. “I shall leave you with my card. Please be prompt, I’m not exactly renowned for my patience, particularly where my school is concerned. And I promise you, this is lucrative enough that you don’t want to say no.”

“No, no of course not, Madame Irene,” Daniel said politely, taking the card. “This was just a bit much for Harriet, and she’s practically, well—”

“Your daughter, yes,” Adele Irene interrupted. “Family always comes first.”

“Ah, and here you—ah.”

Harriet looked past Adele Irene. Professor Howe had just stepped around the corner. The sight of Adele Irene made him stop cold.

To Harriet’s surprise, the sight of Professor Howe brought the first true smile to Adele Irene’s face that Harriet had seen so far. And yet, there was still a cold, smugness to it.

“Ah, Sherrod, a pleasure to see you again.”

“A-a pleasure as always, Adele,” Sherrod replied.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. For the first time since she’d first met Professor Howe, she finally was seeing him completely wrong-footed. Something about Adele Irene was putting him entirely on edge. It was at once unsettling, and yet incredibly amusing.

“I was just here to discuss my business with Mr Dusk,” Adele Irene explained.

“Ah, yes, I… I had wondered who purchased _every_ item up for auction,” Professor Howe said, starting to sound more like himself now that the shock of running into Adele Irene had worn off.

Adele Irene simply replied by smiling even more enigmatically. She looked back at Daniel and Harriet.

“Do send an owl straight-away to set up a meeting. Your designs are divine; I simply must have them for my girls.”

Adele Irene returned her attention to Professor Howe. “And Sherrod… you simply must give me a tour of your school soon. Given that most of my girls are now attending your school it is only fair.”

“Ah, yes of course, Adele,” Professor Howe said, doffing his hat to her.

Adele Irene’s smirk grew ever so slightly. “In the meantime, I desire another drink. Join me, Sherrod.”

 “Oh, you know me, Adele, never been able to say no to you…”

“I know,” Adele Irene replied. “That’s why it wasn’t a request.”

Professor Howe looked a little hot under the collar again, and without another word followed Adele Irene back out towards the tables.

“Okay… this day just gets weirder and weirder,” Harriet said, shaking her head.

“Yes, yes it does…” Daniel said, looking down at Adele Irene’s card.

“You… you can go take care of that business stuff,” Harriet said, quite sincerely. “I feel better now.”

“Really?” Daniel asked, looking down at her uncertainly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Harriet nodded. “I’ll just go back inside and change then find my friends.”

“Okay, if you’re really sure…” Daniel said, though he still sounded doubtful.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Yes!” she insisted. “I told you, I did this for you, so you better go make something of it, buster.”

Daniel finally laughed and knelt down to hug her once more. “Thanks, Harricane… you’re amazing.”

“Thanks Daddy,” Harriet said, hugging him tight back.

They held the hug for a few moments before Harriet finally let go. Daniel kissed her forehead before rising and heading off for the sitting area where Adele Irene had gone with Professor Howe. Harriet headed back towards the changing rooms.

She was relieved to find them empty. She sat in a chair and just stared for a while trying to process everything. So far, she was eluding Rita Skeeter, that was something. She was just about to stand up again to change back into her normal clothes, when—

“You okay?”

Harriet nearly jumped clean out of her skin. She looked around so fast her neck cricked. Finn was standing in the doorway, giving her a concerned look.

“Don’t do that!” Harriet said, slumping back in the chair catching her breath.

“Sorry,” Finn said, walking over and sitting in the chair opposite her. “Like I said, I gotta keep secret around here. Anyway, you okay? Really okay? You looked pretty shook up on that stage… still do.”

Harriet sighed. “No, I’m not okay. I’m being blackmailed, I was on that stage and terrified and the one person I rely on didn’t do anything about it, and the one person who’s apparently trying to help me out won’t tell me how he’s doing it.”

Finn didn’t look the slightest bit abashed. He simply shrugged. “Told you, the less you know the safer it is.”

“Yeah, you know that’s not very comforting,” Harriet grumbled.

“Yeah, well, Rita’s only threatening to ruin your life,” Finn retorted. “She hasn’t already done it like she has with me.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. “Okay, so she got you kicked out of a concert, I don’t think that’s really ruining your life…”

Finn sniffed. He shook his head in exasperation and rose to his feet.

“Right, well, I’ll leave you be then,” he said curtly, clearly deeply offended.

“What is wrong with you?” Harriet asked. “This isn’t you.”

Finn rounded on her at once. “And what is me?” he asked, his voice cold.

Harriet stammered, caught off guard by the question and Finn’s demeanour completely.

“You don’t know a thing about me,” Finn said, his nostrils flaring in his offense. “No one does. My whole life has been a complete fecking act. Don’t tell me who I am.”

Harriet took a step back. Finn sighed and seemed to deflate. He rubbed the back of his head, looking around. He walked over and flopped back down into the chair.

“Fine… you know what? You wanna know who I am? You wanna see under the surface that is Finnbar Negus?”

Harriet didn’t say anything, or move. Finn didn’t seem to need a response.

“Me parents went away when I was nine. I’ve never seen them since. Skeeter didn’t make that up.”

Harriet sat down.

“I grew up on the streets of Dublin at the height of the Troubles, right? When me parents went away, they made me promise. They made me swear that Colm would never find out what they did, and that I was to do everything I could to keep him happy and take care of him.”

Harriet cocked her head to the side. It suddenly occurred to her that Finn sounded different.

“Oh yeah,” Finn said pointing at his throat. “Two accents. This me real one. Dublin lad. Born and raised. Rathgar Road, down Rathmines. Grew up on that street getting in fights with all the bigger kids who wanted to pick on Colm because he was ‘different.’ When I went away to Rathlin with Colm I had to teach meself a northern accent like a good little Ulster boy because Rathlin’s in the north and I didn’t feel like getting the shite kicked out of me ten times a day by the other northerners and Tommies.”

Finn cleared his throat and suddenly reverted back to his northern accent. “Had to put on this accent almost half m’life. Had to act like a carefree idiot half m’life just to keep Colm happy.”

Finn sighed. “Then that fecking article… couldn’t keep the truth from Colm any longer… he cried… cried for the first time since they went away… they made me tell him they were dead…”

Harriet felt her eyes water slightly as she watched Finn.

“We went away to live at Rathlin… wards of Professor Howe… he played along with my parents’ last wish… told Colm they were dead, too.”

Finn fell silent, just staring at the ceiling. Harriet was speechless.

“So… there you have it… the real Finn Negus… the happy-go-lucky doofus of Rathlin…”

“All of it… you did all of that for your brother?” Harriet asked.

“Aye,” Finn muttered. “Only real family I had left idn’t ‘ee? I didnae keep my parents’ promise for them. I kept it for him. I didn’t want him to ever hurt again. I never wanted to see him cry again…”

Finn’s knuckles went white as he gripped the arm of the chair. “I’ve been a British citizen ever since then,” he continued. “Professor Howe pushed through the paperwork, made it all official like. Been loyal to me new home. Done everything I can to try and fix the bridge in Rathlin at least… try and make up for what my parents…”

Finn sniffed and let go of the chair. He grunted and got to his feet.

“Finn…” Harriet said. She didn’t know what to say, but felt like she had to say something.

“Why I’m… well, yeah,” Finn went on awkwardly. “I don’t give two shites about the concert. That witch made my brother cry, and she’s hurting you. Someone’s got to stop her. Might as well be me, right?”

Harriet stared at Finn. In her mind, she tried to picture him in the green and purple costume from the Hallowe’en party. She tried to imagine him wearing his smart suit from the Yule Ball. She found she couldn’t. It was as though that Finn had been completely wiped from her memory and was replaced with this one.

Finn suddenly gave a snort that might have been a laugh and his face broke into the first smile Harriet had seen on it since the Yule Ball.

“And you know… you are a little infuriating.”

“W-what?” Harriet stammered.

“I’ve been trying all year to figure out what you want…” Finn explained, staring off still smiling. “You wrote me for weeks, then just sort of stopped… then Colm said how you were getting sweet with that bloke Fred and I thought, okay… well I missed me chance… then saw you at the Ball and just… you weren’t happy… but you didn’t start writing again… and I saw you at the memorial and you still weren’t happy… but you still didn’t write… then you finally wrote, and it was for help. And I jumped too without a second thought…”

Harriet blushed.

Finn shook his head. “Then all day you’ve given me nothing but hell… and in spite of all of that… the only thing I can think about is just…”

Finn sighed. “I want to see you smile again.”

Harriet opened her mouth to speak again when there was a clanging noise from outside that sounded like a can full of rocks being kicked over. Harriet heard a woman cursing in frustration. Finn suddenly looked anxious.

“That’s my cue,” he said and headed out of the room.

The moment he was out of sight, the door opened. Harriet felt her insides tighten a final time as Rita Skeeter stepped into the room. She was holding up a can on a string, staring at it with bemusement.

“Who the devil left this just lying around,” Rita growled in frustration, throwing the contraption into a nearby trash bin.

Rita turned and spotted Harriet, and her terrible, hungry grin returned.

“Oh _there_ you are… didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, my dear?”

“No, but I’d hoped…”

“No such luck, my dear,” Rita grinned more.

She moved towards the door where Finn had disappeared. Rita peered out, but apparently Finn had made good his escape, because Rita simply shut the door and turned back to Harriet.

“Well, nice and private here, perfect place for an interview, wouldn’t you say?”

Harriet said nothing. Rita smirked, and drew out her Qwik-Quotes Quill with some parchment. She walked over to sit in the very chair where Finn had sat.

“Well, first thing’s first, Harriet. How did you feel taking part in this Gala?”

“Trapped,” Harriet admitted. She felt very trapped at the moment, too. Did Finn know the interview was happening now? Should she press Rita like he told her?

Harriet closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and decided for once just to trust.

“Cute,” Rita said sarcastically. “But really, Harriet, getting on stage for such a good cause, helping your dear, devoted new father figure rebuild his life after it was so tragically taken from him, and you.”

“Well of course I wanted to help,” Harriet admitted. “Daniel means the world to me… he’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had…”

Rita’s smirk grew. “Yes… and now what about this revelation of the real identity of Alessa Selene as Fern Mantovani? Shocking, isn’t it?”

“It… it was,” Harriet said. She didn’t think it’d be good to reveal that she had met Alessa before as Fern.

“And to see her reunited with her childhood friend after years of being torn apart by a crazed mother… simply touching.”

Harriet snorted. “Right, like you really care.”

“Oh, of course not,” Rita said, business-like again. “But it often elicits some sort of reaction from those I interview to pretend that I do.”

“When you’re not blackmailing them,” Harriet muttered.

Rita’s smile grew. “Oh I don’t need to do that with everyone. Just the truly tough cases, the ones who have too many barriers in the way. It pays to cut right to the chase.”

“No matter the cost?” Harriet asked.

“Oh the cost is never mine,” Rita gloated. “Take our agreement. It’s totally your word against mine… well, mine and your aunt and uncle’s.”

Harriet grimaced.

“Oh really, is this so terrible?” Rita sneered. “Just a few interviews, and all monetary proceeds… and nothing bad has to happen to your dear new daddy, or his new family…”

“You’re threatening to publish an article claiming that Daniel is my real father, when he isn’t, and ruin his chances of getting his shop rebuilt and his new relationship if I don’t give you exclusive interviews and do these stupid modelling shows for you, yes it’s terrible!” Harriet exclaimed.

“Well, when you put it _that_ way I suppose it is, but it is effective, is it not?”

Just then, there was the sound of pounding feet and someone started hammering on the door.

“Rita!” Harriet heard a man shouting outside. “Rita! Are you in there?!”

Rita rose, frustration all over her face as she crossed over and opened the door.

“What is it, Bozo?! I’m busy!”

“Rita!” the portly photographer who followed Rita everywhere said, leaning over to catch his breath. “You have to stop! You’re on the radio! The wireless! You’re being broadcast all around the world right now!”

“What?!” Rita gasped. She rounded on Harriet, her face horrified. “What have you done?!”

“Nothing,” Harriet shrugged.

In an instant, she realized what Finn had done, and what his plan had been. Colm was broadcasting for Rathlin right outside. While the interview had been going on, Finn must have snuck in one of the microphones from Colm’s show, and Colm was broadcasting live.

Rita opened the door to the hallway once more, looking around. There was no one there. Then, she looked up. The walls did not connect with the arched ceiling. Set right on top of the wall dividing this room from the make-up room was a small, silver microphone.

“You!” Rita shrieked, rounding on Harriet. “You did this! How did you do this!?”

Harriet shrugged. “I told you, I didn’t. No idea how that got there.”

Rita gave a cry of rage and reached for her wand. Harriet however, was quicker.

“ _Protego_!” Harriet said, casting the shield charm between her and Rita in the nick of time. Rita’s hex glanced off the charm and shot straight back at Rita. Rita cried out in shock as it just barely missed her, singeing some of her curly hair.

“Rita, we have to get out of here,” Bozo said tugging on Rita’s arm. “The mob’s coming!”

Rita spluttered. “Mob?!”

“Yes! They’re all livid! They put it over the speakers too! Everyone heard everything!”

Rita and Bozo both ran for the back door. They opened it but apparently people were coming from that way, because they turned and instead headed for the hallway and the stage. Harriet rose from her chair and followed them, though she kept her distance. She rounded the curtains and looked out on the spectacle.

Rita and Bozo were both in the middle of a crowd that had formed a circle around them, blocking their escape. Rita kept pointing her wand at the gathered people as though afraid they were going to attack at any moment.

“Stay back!” Rita barked, “all of you!”

Her eyes fell on Professor Howe, who was no longer with Adele Irene, but was casually eating an apple as he watched with benign interest.

“Howe! Protect me! You said you would! I helped you! I made Black look good for you!”

“Ahhhh, Rita,” Professor Howe said, shaking his head. “Our agreement was to keep the Ministry from learning your dirty little secret unless you helped me out. It certainly did not extend to protecting you from blackmailing an innocent child.”

“Rita…”

Rita slowly turned. From the crowd stepped Professor Sutler. Harriet’s insides squirmed a little. The look on Professor Sutler’s face was pure pain.

“Nick…” Rita said, looking relieved. “Oh Nick… it’s all lies, Nick… I was set up… please…”

Rita started for Professor Sutler but he took a step back and his look of pain morphed at once into disgust.

“Rita… you blackmailed a child for stories… you’ve sunk that low now…? You…”

Professor Sutler shook his head.

“You’re a monster…”

Professor Sutler turned to walk back into the crowd.

“Nick!” Rita shrieked. “Don’t turn your back on me!”

But turn his back he did. Professor Sutler didn’t look back once as he turned into the crowd. Harriet watched as he kept walking away. With every step, he seemed to get taller and taller, as though the weight of Rita was washing off of him once and for all.

More commotion brought Harriet’s attention back to Rita. Someone was walking swiftly towards Rita. The person was moving at such a brisk pace that Harriet couldn’t see who it was at first. It was a woman with flowing blonde hair. Rita rounded on the woman and raised her wand but it was too late. The woman drew back her first and swung with all her might. Her fist connected with Rita right in the mouth.

Rita toppled backwards at once. Now that the woman had stopped, Harriet could see who it was. Her jaw dropped. It was Aurora.

“You blackmail a girl I love like a daughter and threaten the man I plan to marry,” Aurora said. The crowd had gone so silent in shock that Harriet could hear Aurora perfectly. “You are a monster… and now you’re nothing…”

Rita wiped some blood from her cut lip. She was looking even more frantic as she struggled back to her feet.

“You… what do you know…” Rita growled. “I’ve destroyed so many lives… I’ll destroy yours too… I’ll get you for this…”

“Ah, not likely, I’m afraid, Rita,” Professor Howe said. “See I’m fairly sure there are some Aurors heading this way and they look not too happy, because last I checked, blackmail is a rather serious crime…”

Rita screamed and pulled on her hair. By the looks of it, she was having a complete mental breakdown. Then, Harriet almost didn’t see what happened. It looked as though Rita had disappeared. Harriet just managed to see something zooming off into the sky. It was a beetle. Rita had turned into a beetle.

“Ah,” Professor Howe sighed. “And now she can add being an unregistered Animagus to her now extensive list of crimes. Well, that’s something off my shoulders then. Come on everyone, there’s still plenty of party to go around, I should say!”

The crowd didn’t seem all that eager to go back to any sort of merry-making. Between Fern outing herself, and the revelation about Rita Skeeter, the mood had by and large been killed. Harriet saw Daniel and Aurora hurrying towards her. She hopped down off the stage and jumped up to hug them both tight around their necks.

“Oh Harriet, oh god, Harriet,” Daniel said. “Why didn’t you tell us? Oh my poor baby.”

Daniel was shaking. She felt a tiny drop of wetness fall on her neck. Daniel was crying.

Aurora was stroking Harriet’s hair. “It’s okay now,” Aurora was whispering kindly. “It’s over now…”

Harriet just hugged them both tighter. Her eyes were closed, but finally, she opened them. The crowd was all watching, touched looks on their faces. Her eyes were scanning the crowd for one face in particular. Finally, she spotted him. Finn was standing just a few feet away. He gave her the tiniest of smiles, tipped his peaky to her, then turned and in an instant had vanished from sight in the crowd.

## * * * *

“I can’t believe you kept that a secret for so long.”

It was night-time now. The gala was over. Harriet was free. She was wearing her normal clothes once more. She’d scrubbed off all of the make-up, and her hair was tied back into an untidy but comfortable ponytail.

She and her friends were all sitting on the front porch of the Shrieking Shack. Professor Dumbledore had given them all special permission to spend the night in the Shack after the ‘shocking’ events of the day.

Harriet shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice…” she said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Still, it’s just… I’m shocked,” Scott admitted. “I mean we could all tell something was wrong, but not _that_ wrong.”

“Wish I’d gotten to punch her instead,” Dora growled. “I knew she was a nasty piece of work but that… that’s just…”

“Sick,” Kieran agreed.

“Wonder if they’ve caught up with her yet,” Ronnie pondered. “It’s gotta be hard to track down a beetle.”

Harriet shrugged. She didn’t really care anymore. Rita was finished. No one was going to publish articles from her anymore. At least she hoped not.

“How did you set that all up?” Hermione asked. She had been the quietest that night. Fern had been taken into protective custody by the Aurors, and so once more their reunion had been cut short.

Harriet shrugged. “I didn’t… Finn did it all.”

“Finn?” Kieran asked. “How’d he know?”

“I… I sorta told him after that article came out…”

“What?” Dora said, sounding hurt. “You told him before you told any of us?”

“I couldn’t tell anyone here anything!” Harriet retorted. “Skeeter was hiding around everywhere here. She was spying on everyone by being a beetle, wasn’t she? That beetle in my hair after the second task? That had to have been her.”

“You know… now you mention it, there was a beetle on one of the statues in the grotto when I overheard Hagrid talking to Madam Maxime at the Yule Ball,” Marcus said. “I remember because I thought it was really weird seeing a beetle outside in that weather.”

“Right… and she must have been in the room when… well… she overheard you telling me about how you feel about boys…” Harriet said, looking over at Scott.

Scott went a little red. “Sh-she did?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “It was something else she threatened me with to keep me quiet and go along with her…”

Scott hung his head a little. “Sorry… I… I never meant to put you into a situation like that…”

“Oh Scott,” Hermione said kindly. “You didn’t know… how could we have known?”

Scott nodded and sighed.

“So… sorry we got so pushy on you,” Kieran said. “We just could tell something was wrong and it’s just not like you not to share it with us…”

“I know,” Harriet said. “It’s okay.”

“This year has been our craziest year, hands down,” Marcus said.

“And somehow, I don’t think this is the craziest it’ll be,” Scott said.

“No?” Marcus chuckled.

“No, because every time we say something like that, it _always_ gets crazier…”

“I dunno,” Ronnie said. “I don’t think things can get much crazier than watching Professor Sinistra punch someone.”

Everyone laughed.

“Well,” Kieran said smiling. “At least in the end we all have each other. Harriet’s not being blackmailed by Rita Skeeter anymore. The Death Eater who was hiding here is gone. Hermione’s got her childhood best friend back. I’d say that on the whole, we’re actually on the winning side of things for once.”

“Hear, hear,” the rest said, clinking their bottles of butterbeer together in a toast.

“So, Harriet…” Dora asked, trying a little too hard to sound casual. “That article about Finn…”

Harriet sighed. “Yeah… that part was true. About his parents.”

The group fell silent at this.

“Wow…” Marcus muttered.

“Yeah…”

Harriet told them everything Finn had told her about his childhood and family. She felt disconnected again as she explained. She had tried to look for Finn in the crowd after things died down, but he was nowhere to be found. Even Professor Howe it seemed had left. Just like that, Finn had waltzed back into her life, gotten her out of possibly the biggest jam she had ever been in, and left again.

Harriet remembered her talk with Sirius, right here on this porch. Sirius had told her to look for a guy who would do things for her and expect nothing in return. Hadn’t that been what Finn had just done? Granted, he had wanted to get back at Rita for the article too, but somehow, Harriet didn’t think that counted against him in that regard.

But he still went to school so far away. And she supposed she could possibly find it in her heart to forgive Fred soon. He wasn’t as bad as Rita, but Harriet was still not over that hurt just yet.

When she finished, Marcus whistled.

“He kept all that in for all that time?” Hermione asked. “Just to keep his brother happy?”

“Yeah…” Harriet said.

“That’s… dang, I couldn’t imagine doing that for that long,” Ronnie admitted. “Since he was nine? That’s like… eight years.”

Harriet nodded.

“Well… he got his own back too,” Kieran said, and raised his bottle again. “To Harriet and Finn, our Heroes of the Day.”

“Harriet and Finn,” the rest said, again clinking their bottles against his.

Harriet raised hers, feeling awkward and clinked it against the rest.

“To Finn…”


	39. Growing Pains

“I find the hardest thing about growing up isn’t the act of growing. It’s the way our minds twists the actions and words of others into something different. It’s only when we are able to separate the reality from our mind’s fantasies that we truly mature.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

That night, Harriet couldn’t sleep. She and her friends all lay on bedrolls covered by sleeping bags on the floor of the Shrieking Shack’s sitting room. She was plenty comfortable, but her mind was racing.

Everyone else was sound asleep, of course. She sighed, really wanting someone to talk to. She supposed she could wake one of them. She did feel as though she should talk to Hermione about what had happened.

A floorboard creaked upstairs. Harriet sat up. She listened hard. There was another creak. Someone was awake.

She tilted her head. She could hear Daniel and Aurora talking. Harriet bit her lip. Should she risk trying to sneak up? She didn’t know what they could be talking about, but she wanted to. Mostly, she didn’t want to be alone.

As silently as she could, Harriet slipped out of her sleeping bag and tip-toed up the stairs. She moved as quickly as she dared. She didn’t want to make noise, but she didn’t want to miss anything important either.

Finally, she made it to the door. It was cracked just enough, a sliver of light coming out. Harriet knelt down, leaned back against the wall, and listened.

“They signed it… they fucking signed that contract,” Daniel said angrily.

“Daniel,” Aurora said in a soft, soothing voice.

“I can’t take this anymore… I can’t live with myself knowing she’s going back to that!”

“I know sweetie, I know…”

Daniel sighed. “I just don’t know how we’re going to get her out of there…”

“Well we have the proof we need from that contract they’re unfit guardians,” Aurora reasoned. “That has to count for something.”

“The problem isn’t them…” Daniel grumbled, his voice prickling with anger.

“Then what?”

“It’s Dumbledore,” Daniel replied, and he almost snarled.

“Dumbledore?” Aurora asked. “What does he have to do with it?”

“I have _no_ idea,” Daniel said. “All I know is, after I dug deeper I found out that every single time I tried to adopt Harriet and failed, it was him who blocked it…”

“He what?” Aurora gasped. “Doesn’t he know how they’ve treated her?”

“He has to,” Daniel grunted. Harriet heard him stand up and start pacing the floor.

There was a pause in the conversation. Harriet’s heart was racing. Daniel had tried to adopt her before?

“He stopped me back in Eighty-Two, after all the dust had settled from Lily and James, and Voldemort being gone, and Sirius, and…” Daniel sighed. “He stopped me again in Eighty-Seven, then in Ninety-One just before Harriet started attending Hogwarts. With all the protection on their house, I could never find out where they lived. Even then… I was afraid of trying to reach out…”

“Oh Daniel…” Aurora said and Harriet heard her cross to Daniel.

“I was afraid… afraid of how her Aunt and Uncle would react… I didn’t want them scaring her off me…”

“Well…” Aurora mused thoughtfully. “We could always move up the wedding.”

Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open.

“Move up the wedding…? We haven’t even told Harriet I’ve proposed yet. I haven’t even been able to afford a ring with everything going on…”

“Well you can afford one now,” Aurora said, sounding more cheerful.

Daniel gave a soft laugh. “Yeah… I guess I can, huh?”

“You made more than enough to rebuild the shop from the committee,” Aurora reasoned. “Then there was all the money you made off the sales today, those private donations, then the order for all your designs for that Adele Irene woman.”

“Heh, yeah… made more in one day than the shop usually makes in two years… I mean, Merlin, someone donated two-hundred galleons as compensation if I’d hire a few Rathlin students over the summer. Weird to have conditions but I’m not looking a gift-horse in the mouth…”

“It’s time, sweetie,” Aurora said. “The shop will be rebuilt, we can get rings, we can plan a quick little ceremony, then we’ll be two parents together trying to adopt a sweet girl from a terrible situation. The Ministry will see things our way then.”

“I hope you’re right…” Daniel muttered. “I really hope you’re right…”

“I know I’m right,” Aurora boasted. Harriet could almost see the sly grin on Aurora’s face in her imagination.

Daniel laughed. “Oh is that right?” he taunted and suddenly Aurora gave a squeal of laughter.

“Daniel!” she cried, laughing loudly. Harriet could hear the sound of their bed squeaking as they landed on it. “The kids will hear!”

“Well don’t laugh so loud,” Daniel sniggered as Aurora continued to laugh.

Harriet was already hurrying away from the door. Her mind was buzzing and she knew she was going to have an even harder time sleeping now. Daniel and Aurora were secretly engaged. They were planning to get married soon. And they wanted to adopt her. They wanted to take her away from the Dursleys forever.

Harriet’s hands were shaking, but not in fear. They were shaking in excitement. It was pure, unbridled joy. They were coming for her. They were going to take her away from the Dursleys. They were going to be married. She was going to have a mom and dad and even sisters.

When she reached the living room, Daniel and Aurora’s play had indeed woken the others.

“…That’s Daniel and Aurora, isn’t it…?” Marcus asked as more laughter floated down from upstairs.

“Yeah…” Harriet admitted as she slipped back into her sleeping back.

The room fell silent again.

“Okay… so now I know what Professor Sinistra sounds like when she’s in a tickle-fight,” Dora said. “That’s… more than I ever wanted to know.”

“Liar,” Ronnie teased.

In spite of it all, a wave of sniggers passed through the group.

“Ronnie!” Dora gasped and rolled over, grabbing her pillow and trying to swat Ronnie with it.

“Hey!” Hermione protested. “That was me!”

“Oh, sorr-oof!” Dora started to apologize but was cut off by a sneak pillow attack by Ronnie.

“Oh that’s it!” Dora said and did her best to pounce over on Ronnie despite behind hampered by her sleeping bag.

Ronnie cackled, catching Dora’s hands and rolling, managing to pin Dora down on her back, pinning her hands down either side of her head.

“I win,” Ronnie laughed.

“Oh yeah?” Dora grunted, struggling.

“Yeah,” Ronnie replied confidently.

Harriet rolled her eyes. Even in the dark, she could imagine the smug grin on Ronnie’s face. It was the same grin she always had whenever she came out on top in something.

“Uh… should we like… give you two some privacy?” Marcus asked. He was trying to sound uncomfortable, but Harriet could hear him just barely keeping in his laughter.

Ronnie very quickly let Dora up. Dora sat up so quickly she just barely avoided hitting her head against Ronnie’s. Harriet watched their silhouettes shuffle hurriedly back to their places. Kieran, Scott, Marcus and Hermione were all doing their best to suppress their laughter.

It felt like a long time before everyone fell back to sleep. The room would get quiet, then all the sudden one of them would giggle. This giggle invariably triggered another’s giggling, and then another.

Finally, Harriet felt her own eyes starting to get heavy. She was just about to nod off when she heard the sound of shuffling again.

“Ronnie…?” she just barely heard Dora whisper.

“Yeah?” Ronnie whispered back.

“You awake?”

“Duh.”

“Shut up,” Dora hissed.

“What’s up?”

Dora didn’t respond right away.

“We… we never talked about that night… the Yule Ball…”

Ronnie was the one to take a moment to reply now.

“No… we didn’t…”

“Did you really mean it…?”

“…Yeah…”

Harriet heard Dora shuffle a little closer.

“You know… you’re kinda cute when you get all tough… when you act all sure of yourself like that…”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah…”

“You’re kinda beautiful all the time,” Ronnie replied.

“Flatterer,” Dora giggled softly.

“I mean it…” Ronnie said, sounding hurt.

“I know…” Dora replied, her whisper soft and breathy.

“Pretty… like… like a nightingale…”

Dora giggled again. “A nightingale…? You think I’m a bird?”

“I like birds,” Ronnie admitted. “And I like you… a lot… and you’re pretty, and you sing pretty, and you always take care of—mf.”

Ronnie fell silent. So did Dora. Harriet heard them both breathe deeply, then there was a soft, wet sound that Harriet knew all too well. It was the sound her lips and Fred’s had made after their kiss at the top of the Astronomy tower.

“Wow…” Ronnie gasped softly under her breath.

“Well, if I’m a nightingale, what bird are you?” Dora asked.

“A stork…” Ronnie muttered.

“Ugh, not even,” Dora grunted. “You’re my eagle.”

Ronnie went very quiet.

“…I can be your eagle.”

Dora giggled a final time. “Yes you can.”

They stopped speaking. All Harriet could hear now was the sound of their lips working together. She shifted uncomfortably in her sleeping bag. It wasn’t Dora and Ronnie kissing that was making her uncomfortable. It was actually their little conversation about birds.

She remembered that last date in the Astronomy tower. She had asked Fred what kind of bird she was, and Fred more or less blew the question off. But someone else thought she was a bird. Someone else had been calling her a bird all along.

_Dove_.

Harriet grimaced. Finn hadn’t called her that once all day. He always said it with such tenderness. At least in her dreams. Harriet sighed rolling on her side. If Finn wanted nothing more than to see her smile again, Harriet found herself wanting nothing more than to hear him call her Dove just one more time.

In her exhaustion, Harriet finally fell asleep. However, had she not been so distracted, she would have noticed that it was not just Dora and Ronnie who were awake. Unseen by anyone else, a hand slowly slid out of Hermione’s sleeping bag, stretching across the floor and meeting Marcus’ which was already waiting, their fingers entwining in secret.

## * * * *

They returned to Hogwarts late the following day. They had spent that afternoon helping Daniel, Aurora, Remus, and Sirius with putting away all the unsold clothing and carting it all back to the Shrieking Shack. Harriet couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as she watched all the tents coming down.

Sure, she had been far from thrilled about being forced into the fashion show, but it had been uplifting to see Hogsmeade in some semblance of its former glory. Now, with all the tents gone and the rubble cleared away, Hogsmeade was nothing more than a wide open plain, dotted here and there by boarded over cellars that marked where shops and houses once stood.

Harriet was relieved to return to a Hogwarts as it seemed everything was back to normal. All she had left to worry about was the final task. Harriet wondered if it was her imagination, but everything and everyone seemed much more relaxed now that the gala was over. Everything seemed funnier. She and her friends laughed easily at the slightest joke.

Harriet hadn’t said anything to the others about what she had overheard that night. Not about what Aurora and Daniel had discussed, or about Dora and Ronnie’s kissing. Dora and Ronnie were playing things remarkably cool. Had Harriet not heard what she had heard, she never would have guessed that anything had happened.

That night in the common room, Harriet was just settling in on the couch, when for the first time since the fateful day in the Owlery, Fred came to speak to Harriet.

“Hey…” Fred said, his voice sounding hollow and brittle.

“Hey…” Harriet replied, unable to keep the awkwardness out of her voice.

“I-uh… Ronnie… told me about everything that happened…” Fred went on. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… you have every right to hate me right now…”

“Oh, Fred,” Harriet said, sitting up more on the sofa. “I don’t hate you.”

“You should,” Fred sighed. “I was an idiot, a complete idiot… I went back on my word to you over something so stupid, and…”

Harriet sighed. “Fred, he stole from you, of course you’re angry, that’s not stupid.”

“I just… I hurt you… that will always be stupid…”

Fred put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a letter.

“Here,” he said, walking around the couch and to the fireplace.

“Fred?” Harriet asked, perplexed.

“It’s the letter… the one to Bagman we were going to send…” Fred explained.

He drew his wand and tapped the envelope. The letter burst into flames and Fred tossed it into the empty fireplace.

“There… was waiting till I worked up the courage to talk to you again… wanted you to see me do it first-hand.” Fred gave Harriet a sad little smile. “Anyway, just… yeah, wanted you to know. I’ll leave you alone… until you’re ready to talk…”

Fred turned and walked away, back across the common room. Harriet bit her lip. She wanted to stop him, and yet there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready for any of this.

She kept watching as Fred sat with George and Erica. At once, Angelina, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet joined them. Angelina sat closest to Fred, giving him her most sympathetic look. Harriet twisted her lips. There was a part of her that knew she should be jealous. And yet it just did not feel like she should be.

Harriet flopped back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Why was everything about growing up so hard?

## * * * *

Growing up proved even harder the next day. That Monday morning, a special “Gala” edition of _Witch Weekly_ was released. The articles were split, half of them had to do with Harriet, while the other half had to do with Fern.

Harriet’s stomach churned a little as she read. Of the articles about her, most were sympathetic, but two of them were less than flattering. One referred to her as _Harriet Pumpkin_.

“Harriet Pumpkin?” Kieran choked on his kipper. “Seriously?”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “What? Just because I’m not a six-foot tall twig?”

“That’s insane,” Ronnie said, staring at the magazine with disdain. “You were blackmailed into all of that, and all that bitch wants to talk about is your weight?”

Dora sniffed bitterly. “Welcome to being truly in the public eye. Mum and Dad held an event for their charity last year and that same dim-bulb only wrote about how ‘scandalous’ Mum’s dress was.”

Dora sighed. “That’s just it… as terrible as Rita Skeeter was, she was far from the only one. She was just the best at it because she was the worst…”

Harriet crossed her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them. Hermione put a kindly hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“I’m betting they weren’t even at the Gala,” Hermione reasoned. “They didn’t see what everyone else did. They’re paid to sensationalize. You know the truth of what happened, and so does everyone who was there. You have nothing to feel bad about.”

“I’d feel better if everyone just left me the hell alone,” Harriet grumbled into her arms.

The group fell silent at this. Harriet rolled her eyes.

“Not you guys,” she said looking up at them.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Kieran said, his lips twitching.

## * * * *

Wednesday. Three days left until the final task. Harriet had one thought to sustain her as the finale drew nearer and nearer: Daniel and Aurora were engaged, they were going to get married, and they were going to take her away from the Dursleys. She was going to have a proper mother and father. She was going to have little sisters. She was going to have a family.

A nagging part of her mind told Harriet it was too good to be true. Something terribly wrong was sure to happen. Professor Dumbledore would try and get in the way again. At every meal until that point, Harriet found herself stealing bitter glances at Professor Dumbledore. Who was he to keep Harriet at the Dursleys?

Harriet couldn’t find a single reason. How could she possibly be safer at the Dursleys than with another wizard and former Auror like Daniel? Daniel had said something about the Dursleys’ home being difficult to find. That didn’t make any sense to her. It was Number Four, Privet Drive. The Ministry had that on record, didn’t they?

Harriet’s mind was completely full as she crawled into bed that night. Tossing and turning, she tried to put her mind at ease. DIDS growled in agitation, but Harriet paid him no mind. The final task was almost here. Professor Dumbledore was behind her staying at the Dursleys. Daniel and Aurora were going to get married.

There was one small consolation, though it was far from the outcome that Harriet wanted. That morning’s _Daily Prophet_ reported that Rita Skeeter had been admitted to St Mungo’s. She had finally been apprehended by magical lawmen, but apparently in the process she had suffered a complete psychotic breakdown. The article said that Skeeter had been placed in the Janus Thickey Ward, where long-term care patients were kept.

Harriet felt a shiver of resentment at this. It was the same ward where Daniel said that Neville’s parents were being kept. Rita Skeeter didn’t deserve to walk the same planet as Neville’s parents in Harriet’s mind, let alone stay in the same ward.

Harriet scowled, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling of her four-poster bed as the resentment washed over her. Then again, what did it matter? Harriet won. Harriet was free. Skeeter was the one who’d lost her marbles.

Harriet had won. Sure, Finn had done the real work, but Harriet was still on top over Rita Skeeter. That’s what mattered in the end, didn’t it? Harriet won. She was tied for second in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Daniel and Aurora were going to save her from the Dursleys. Screw being miserable, Harriet owned the world right now.

_Harriet strode slowly into the bedroom. She smiled taking the room in. It was dimly lit with candles. The walls were a soft green, as was the bedspread of the massive bed. The candles were all held in silver candlesticks and candelabras._

_“You are ready for bed, m’lady?”_

_Harriet smirked slightly, brushing back her hair. She didn’t look over at the boy who spoke. He had to earn getting that much of her attention._

_“Not yet,” Harriet said, strutting to her vanity._

_She felt good as she strutted. What did the great Alessa Selene have on her strut? Harriet was on top of the world. Not even the heels she was wearing could slow her down now._

_She stepped in front of her full-length mirror. She was wearing a long, silk scarf tied around her neck, maroon and blue, with pink trim and dark magenta diamonds on the maroon. She wore a simple black top. She turned side to side, taking herself in. The top was nice and form fitting, showing off her growing chest well._

_She wore a green tartan skirt with yellow and white pattern. The outfit was finished off with a pair of black knee-socks that came right to the bottom of her kneecaps, and black pumps with a strap around her ankles._

_Harriet grinned at herself in the outfit. She felt powerful wearing it. Dark, but young. Black, like Adele Irene, the woman in black at the Gala. The kind of woman who could even order Professor Howe around. A truly strong, in control woman._

_“Did m’lady have a good night out?” the boy asked._

_“Yes, I did,” Harriet said, brushing back her hair from her eyes._

_“I’m sure you broke every boy’s heart,” the boy replied._

_Harriet could hear the longing in his voice. Her smirk grew. She would indulge him… eventually…_

_Harriet sat at her vanity. She made a show of combing her hair. She wanted to drag things out as long as possible, drive him wild with waiting. Over her reflection’s shoulder, she could see him standing and waiting obediently. He was wearing his red jacket, with bright golden buttons, white button up shirt and trousers. He looked almost like an old toy soldier, standing at attention, waiting for orders. His face was hidden in the shadows of the candle-lit room._

_She pushed her chair back slightly, looking at her reflection. She glanced at the boy again and her smirk returned._

_“Boy?” she said, lazily. “Remove my earrings, please.”_

_“Yes, m’lady,” the boy said, walking over._

_A shiver of anticipation rose up Harriet’s back as she saw him move into position behind her. She tilted her head to the left, watching as his strong hands brushed back her hair. With unexpected gentility, the strong fingers nimbly unclasped the right earring and delicately removed it from her ear. Harriet couldn’t help but moan as the hands tilted her head to the right for her, repeating the process of gently removing the other earring._

_“Will that be all, m’lady?” the boy asked._

_Harriet looked at herself in the mirror. She held out her hand and he placed the earrings in her palm for her. She put them in her jewellery box, but all the while she kept her eyes on his hands._

_“Stroke my cheek…” Harriet ordered, her voice soft and breathy._

_“As you wish, m’lady,” the boy said._

_Harriet took in a soft breath as she watched the hand rise to her cheek. The backs of his fingers slowly caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes, just enjoying the sensation of his touch._

_Harriet rose. She couldn’t give in yet. She strode past him, heading towards the bed. She turned, sitting on the edge then lying back on the soft, silky comforter. She couldn’t help but purr softly as she slid her bare arms up and down, enjoying the smooth, coolness. She raised one of her feet into the air._

_“Boy… my shoe.”_

_“As you wish, m’lady,” the boy said._

_Harriet groaned again as she felt his strong hands take hold of her ankle. His hands slowly undid the clasp on the strap around her ankle, before gently slipping the show off her foot._

_“Mmmmmm,” Harriet moaned, nodding, raising the other foot. “And this one, boy…”_

_“Yes, m’lady,” the boy replied, repeating the process._

_“Mmmmmm, you’ve earned being my servant,” Harriet said, stretching out more on the bed. “You know that, right?”_

_“Yes, m’lady,” was all the boy said._

_Harriet rolled over on her stomach. She slowly slid her arms down, crossing her wrists behind her back._

_“My wrists, boy,” she ordered._

_“As you wish, m’lady,” the boy replied._

_Harriet smiled to herself as she heard the boy rummaging around. She barely suppressed a groan of excitement as she felt his weight on the bed too. She bit her lip, closing her eyes as she felt him ever so gently stroke some of the rope up and down her arms, before he began tying her wrists together, tighter and tighter._

_“Good boy,” Harriet moaned, tossing her hair a little._

_“Thank you, m’lady,” the boy replied._

_“My ankles now,” Harriet ordered._

_“Yes, m’lady,” the boy repeated. Each time he said ‘m’lady’ it was with a practiced tempo, the same beat and pitch every time._

_Harriet rested her head on the silky comforter, just enjoying the sensation of the bonds pulling down tight on her ankles._

_“Massage me, boy,” Harriet said._

_“As you wish, m’lady.”_

_Slowly, Harriet felt the boy’s hands move over her calves through the socks. She couldn’t help but curl her toes as the hands moved up and down, squeezing and kneading out all the tension of walking in heels. Then the hands moved to the backs of her thighs, caressing and stroking just right._

_Harriet kept biting her lip, trying to keep her focus. His hands now went to work on her lower back, nimbly moving up and down around her bound hands. She felt all the tension of life leaving her as his hands move to her shoulders. It was sheer bliss._

_Harriet slowly rolled over and sat up. She tossed her hair back, forcing herself to smile confidently again._

_“My chest, boy,” Harriet ordered now._

_She could just see well enough in her vanity’s mirror across the room to watch as the ropes wound tighter and tighter around her chest, above her bust and below. She softy wetted her lips. Again, she was visited with visions of what she had witnessed in the greenhouse. She wanted those hands to move over all her intimate parts as well. She wanted that same passionate kiss she had received from Fred on the top of the Astronomy tower._

_“Hold me…” Harriet said, her voice getting breathy. She was starting to give in._

_“As you wish, m’lady,” the boy whispered in her ear._

_Harriet exhaled slowly as she felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind. He pulled her in close against his chest, the heat of his body warming her arms. Then, she felt his hot breath on her neck, followed shortly by his lips._

_“Ohhhhh,” Harriet moaned. “Your lady didn’t tell you to do that,” she reprimanded, trying to hide the enjoyment in her voice._

_“Yes, but you wanted me to, m’lady,” the boy said._

_“Do you always overstep your orders?”_

_“Only when it pleases m’lady.”_

_“Little rogue,” Harriet taunted._

_“Not so little, m’lady,” the boy purred into Harriet’s neck._

_Harriet gasped. The boy shifted under her, and she felt her hands brush the front of his groin. Tingles of excitement ran through her as her fingertips brushed his boy-parts through the tight pants._

_“Gag me,” Harriet ordered, her chest rising and falling. “Now.”_

_“As you wish, m’lady.”_

_The boy’s hands rose, slowly undoing the scarf around her neck. Harriet looked in the mirror once more. The boy’s face was still in shadow. Harriet felt her heart beating faster and faster._

_“Why… why can’t I see your face…?” Harriet asked. “I want to see your face.”_

_“Because you don’t know who I am, m’lady,” the boy replied._

_“But—but I do…” Harriet said, confused. “You’re…”_

_Suddenly, Harriet found she couldn’t. Was he Finn, or Fred? What was his accent? She hadn’t been paying attention._

_The boy held up the scarf, tying a thick knot in the middle of it before her eyes. Harriet gave a whimper of anticipation. She started to open her mouth when she paused. She had to know._

_“What kind of bird am—mphh?” she asked, cut off by the knot filling her mouth, the ends of the scarf being pulled back, tying it in tightly. Despite her slight frustration, Harriet’s eyes rolled back in her head a little and her eyelids fluttered in pleasure._

_The boy didn’t respond. Harriet leaned back against him._

_“Well?” Harriet pressed, her voice muffled, nuzzling her forehead into his neck._

_Again, the boy did not respond. Harriet looked up into his shadowed face. Was it Fred? Fred didn’t know what kind of bird she was._

_The boy gently touched a fingertip to her chin, lifting her face to look up at his. His face was becoming brighter._

_“You know who you want me to be…” the boy whispered. His voice was gravely as he whispered, as if he was trying to hide his true voice._

_Harriet closed her eyes, nodding. Her whole body was suddenly tingling. The boys hand dropped to her thigh, stroking up and down, the other hand rubbing up and down her side._

_“You’ll always be here for me?” Harriet mumbled into the gag._

_“Always,” the boy growled, kissing her neck again._

_“Whenever I need you?”_

_“Of course, Dove.”_

Harriet sat bolt upright. Her heart was hammering, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Harriet whimpered and collapsed back on her bed. She groaned burying her face in her hands.

Finn, again. Did she mind anymore, though? Not really. That dream had been perfect. Simply perfect.

“Harriet?” Ronnie’s voice came. “You okay?”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm.

“Y-yes,” she replied. “Bad dream… my—uh—my nerves,” she lied.

Ronnie said nothing more. Harriet assumed she had fallen right back to sleep. Harriet was about to roll over and try to go back to sleep herself when something made her pause. Her sheets underneath her hips were damp. As were the insides of her upper thighs.

Harriet felt panic set in. Had she just done what she thought she had? Her panic was quickly replaced with shame. She was fourteen, almost fifteen. Had she really enjoyed that dream that much she didn’t wake to use the bathroom?

As quietly as she could, Harriet slid out of bed. She listened hard. Everyone seemed to still be sleeping. Slowly and carefully, Harriet pulled up her bottom sheet. She wadded it up, then crept over to the laundry hamper, stuffing it in.

Satisfied no one had heard, Harriet snuck back to her bed. She climbed under the covers once more and curled up into a ball. She shivered and fought back tears. What was wrong with her? When? When was life ever going to be easy?

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t really speak to anyone that morning. She got up with the rest, and went to breakfast, but rather than eat she just kept staring at her food, occasionally poking it with her fork. Her friends seemed to understand her desire for quiet, even if they didn’t know why. Harriet figured they were assuming it was her nerves over the final task. It was now only two days away.

Harriet started as a hand rested gently on her shoulder from behind.

“Harriet?”

Harriet looked around. It was Aurora, concern all over her face as she looked down on Harriet.

“Yes?” Harriet asked, her stomach tying itself in knots. Did Aurora know somehow? _No, how could she, stop being so damn paranoid_.

“Are you alright?” Aurora asked.

Harriet thought. Her first impulse was to lie; to say she was fine. But based on the look on Aurora’s face, she knew Aurora wouldn’t believe her. That, and Harriet was just tired of keeping things in.

Harriet shook her head. Aurora nodded and gave Harriet’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Let’s go to my office,” Aurora said. “We can talk there.”

Harriet rose.

“Everything okay?” Nanette asked as Harriet and Aurora passed.

“Yes, dear,” Aurora replied kindly, cupping Nanette’s cheek. “Harriet just needs to talk.”

“Okay,” Nanette said, looking up at Harriet, worry on her little face.

Harriet gave Nanette her best attempt at a smile. It worked better than she’d thought. She found herself rather touched at the concern Nanette was showing. She glanced over at the Ravenclaw table. Even Rosie was half out of her seat, looking over at Harriet with worry.

Harriet hadn’t quite attached herself to the idea of Aurora and the twins being family quite like she had Daniel. And yet, now that she saw how worried all three of them were, Harriet knew she couldn’t keep them distant much longer. Harriet gave Rosie a little smile and wave, too. Rosie returned it, and sat down once more.

Aurora guided Harriet from the Great Hall. She ignored Pansy and Pixie pulling stupid faces at her as they left. They were puffing out their cheeks and sticking out their stomachs tauntingly. Apparently they had read the _Witch Weekly_ articles as well. Harriet glowered. She wasn’t a pumpkin.

Harriet walked along with Aurora, neither speaking. Finally, they arrived at Aurora’s office at the base of the Astronomy tower. Aurora unlocked the door and they entered. It occurred to Harriet that she had never been in Professor Sinistra’s private office before, and she looked around with interest.

There were stacks of homework assignments on Professor Sinistra’s desk, some marked “GRADED” and some “TO GRADE.” The walls were lined with tall book-shelves, full of books on almost every subject, not just Astronomy. Every free space of wall was covered in pinned up star charts, while every flat surface was covered in picture frames of Nanette and Rosie at varying ages.

Harriet picked up one of the twins and Aurora. It looked to be from the twins’ first day at Rathlin. They were wearing smart little uniforms, and grinning happily at the camera, turning this way and that to show them off as Aurora knelt behind them, hugging both girls close, and laughing at the camera, pride written all over her face.

“First day the girls went to Rathlin,” Aurora confirmed.

“They were so cute,” Harriet said, smiling for the first time all day.

“They still are, when they’re not being little monsters,” Aurora said, her lips twitching.

Harriet giggled a little. “One day last Christmas holiday they hijacked Hedwig and dyed her feathers all pink and gold.”

Aurora laughed. “That sounds about right, yes.”

Aurora walked over to a pair of comfortable looking armchairs in the corner of her office. She sat in one, beckoning for Harriet to sit in the other. Harriet set the frame down, crossing over and sitting.

“So… what’s the matter, dear?” Aurora asked.

Harriet grimaced.

“I… I had a dream… last night…”

As Harriet watched, Aurora seemed to go through a series of reactions. The first was surprise. This was quickly replaced with amusement, which was then followed by a kind, empathetic smile.

“Oh sweetie, that’s perfectly normal,” Aurora said, leaning over and gently resting a comforting hand on Harriet’s.

Harriet chewed her lip a little.

“You’re a growing girl, dear,” Aurora went on, giving Harriet’s hand a kindly squeeze. “Your body’s going through a lot of changes. Everyone goes through them at your age, boys and girls.”

“Really…?” Harriet asked, sceptically. “No one else seems to be…”

Aurora’s lips twitched. “Well, dear, have you told any of your friends what you’re going through?”

“No…”

“Well, I imagine they’re probably too afraid to say anything to anyone else, either,” Aurora said reasonably.

Harriet shifted a little.

“I thought the stupid periods were supposed to be the worst of it,” Harriet muttered.

“Oh, sweetie,” Aurora said gently, squeezing Harriet’s hand again. “These things will pass. Right now your body’s being wracked with hormones. You’re having periods because well… your body says it’s ready to start making babies.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t mean you’re _mentally_ ready for that of course,” Aurora said quickly. “But your body is already getting prepared. You’re probably going to notice other changes as well, if you haven’t had them already. Your chest has gotten bigger this year, you’ve started getting curves…”

Harriet blushed. She had noticed that some of her clothes weren’t fitting her the same anymore, nor had the clothes Daniel designed for her for the gala.

“You’re going to need to start wearing deodorant soon, your skin will start producing more oil so you’ll need to wash your hair and face more…”

“This talk is supposed to make me feel better, right…?” Harriet said sarcastically.

Aurora rolled her eyes. “No, dear, it’s supposed to prepare you.”

Harriet looked away. Concern came back to Aurora’s face.

“Harriet, sweetie, what is it?”

Harriet closed her eyes. “Last night I had a dream with naughty stuff happening and I think it made me wet the bed.”

Aurora gave Harriet a look that bordered on sympathy and pity. “Oh, honey… no, you didn’t. That’s normal, too. It’s called a wet dream…”

_Heh, that’s the name for it, alright_ , Harriet thought.

Aurora paused, thinking hard. “Sometimes, when people get stimulated enough in a… sexual way… they—well—orgasm.”

“Orgasm?”

“Yes, dear. Think of it as like… a reward of sorts,” Aurora explained. “You see… well…” Aurora sighed, leaning back in the chair, thinking hard again. “Harriet… have you ever seen what boys look like without their clothes?”

Harriet felt herself blush furiously. “I… well… y-yes… I saw Hyland… when…”

“Ahhhh,” Harriet’s bewilderment, Aurora smiled. “Well, that will make it easier to explain. So… I’m sure you noticed that he looked pretty different from you?”

Harriet nodded, wide eyed.

“Well… you’re shaped the way you are… and boys are shaped the way they are… so the boy can well… he puts his part inside yours.”

“Inside me?!” Harriet gasped. “Ew!”

Aurora laughed. “It’s not that bad, dear,” Aurora reassured her. “Trust me, the more you think about it happening, the more I’m sure you’ll think it will be the greatest thing in the world.”

Harriet doubted this very much, but she wanted to hear where Aurora was going with this.

“Anyway, sweetie, to make it easier for the boy to put his part inside yours, when we girls get aroused, we get… well… wet. Our body produces… um… well to be honest, I’m not an expert in anatomy, so I’m not sure exactly what it is, but our bodies produce a sort of fluid that lets the boy part enter with less resistance, which feels a lot nicer for both involved.”

“Huh…” Harriet muttered. “So… I didn’t… it was just…”

“Yes, dear,” Aurora confirmed. “Sometimes we produce a lot of it and it can get a bit messy… some girls even, well, ejaculate it when they orgasm. But again, it’s perfectly normal.”

Harriet nodded. “I guess that would help… cuz boy parts look all kinda floppy…”

Aurora’s lips twitched again. “Well, when a boy gets aroused, his ‘part’ gets hard and stands erect.”

“ _Weird_ ,” Harriet said, though she now giggled in spite of herself.

Aurora suddenly gave Harriet a very serious look. “That being said, sweetie, I have to stress to you there are a lot of risks and things to worry about with sex. The two biggest are pregnancy… remember, I was only sixteen when I got pregnant with the girls.”

Harriet’s throat tightened, and she slowly nodded.

“The second major risk is disease. There are some very nasty ones out there, some that can even kill you.”

Harriet swallowed.

“There are scores of them: AIDS and HIV, chlamydia, hepatitis, herpes, syphilis…”

Aurora paused, noticing the look on Harriet’s face. “It’s… yes, it’s scary, but I’m not really trying to scare you, honey. I just want you to know what’s out there. And so… I really want to stress to you that the safest way to have sex and avoid those worries is to wait until you’ve found someone you truly love, who you plan on spending the rest of your life with. Because then… things like pregnancy—for instance—won’t be an accident, it’ll be a goal.”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“ _But_ ,” Aurora continued, with a conciliatory look, “I know sometimes that temptation can be too much… and if it should… always make sure you have some form of protection with you…”

“Protection?”

“Yes, dear,” Aurora said. “Things like condoms, they help to prevent both disease and pregnancy. Not _fool proof_ , but better than nothing.”

Harriet digested this. She snorted. “Heh, now if I could just get rid of the crazy dreams…”

“Well,” Aurora chuckled. “I doubt those will go away completely. But… I can offer you some tips on how to deal with the urges…”

## * * * *

Harriet flopped back on her bed. Her head was spinning, and she was thoroughly enjoying it. She’d followed Professor Sinistra’s advice, waiting once more for all the other girls to fall asleep, before acting. It was much better happening while she was awake as opposed to in a dream.

She sat up. On the one hand, she felt content and relaxed, almost as though she could pass right out. On the other hand, she felt so good she didn’t want to waste the moment. She slid out of bed and quietly opened her book bag, taking out some parchment, her quill and ink. She climbed back in bed, spreading out the parchment.

 

_Dear Finn,_

_You said at the Gala I stopped writing, and seemed upset about it. So I guess it’s time for me to fix that. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me. You were amazing. Beyond amazing. You were brilliant. I owe you so much, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back for that._

_I’m still so sorry for what happened to you too. I don’t know your parents, but I know you now. You’re a smart, brave boy, and if you were magic and came here to Hogwarts, you’d totally be a Gryffindor, too. You help people who need it, and that’s awesome._

_I hope you write back soon. And I’m sorry I got so caught up in things and stopped writing._

Harriet paused, thinking.

_Also, though you looked good in purple and green, I think you need to wear more colour. Like red. Red is a good colour on you._

Harriet giggled.

_Hope to hear back soon. The final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament is Saturday. Maybe Professor Howe can bring you to watch. I’m in second place._

_Lots of love,_

_Harriet_

Harriet smiled, letting the ink dry before folding up the letter. She would send it first thing tomorrow morning. That would hopefully give Finn enough time to reply before the task.

She set the letter on her bedside table, put away her ink and quill, and slid back under her covers. She was still feeling a bit floaty from earlier. She sighed happily, gave DIDS’ belly a little tickle, before closing her eyes, and falling right to sleep.


	40. The Final Task

“A great contradiction of life is the closer one comes to victory, the further they slide from clarity.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet grinned eagerly as she took the letter from Obelix’s foot. She was equal parts terrified for the pending final task that afternoon, and yet bursting with excitement. She felt more on top of the world than she could ever remember feeling. Rita Skeeter was gone. The Gala was over. Now all there was for Harriet was the final task.

Harriet felt far more prepared for this task than she had for any of the others. She had been practicing all her spells with Hermione and Scott, even the ones she had learned from Crouch Junior. Harriet practiced these grudgingly, but she had to admit, although Crouch Junior was twisted, the spells he taught Harriet were useful.

Harriet slid open the envelope flap and pulled the letter out. She unfolded it and read.

 

_Hey Dove,_

Harriet barely suppressed a giggle. Across the table, Dora, Ronnie, and Scott gave her raised eyebrows.

_Wow, I didn’t expect to hear back from you so soon. I guess I figured you would still be upset with me over not telling you what the plan was._

_But it looks like the opposite is true. Wow, I have to say no one’s ever said anything about me like that before. I just wanted to help. What she did to me and Colm was terrible, but what Skeeter was doing to you was downright criminal. Shite, it was inhuman._

_Not going to lie, I sort of have no idea what you mean with the whole Gryffindor thing.  Colm explained all about the Hogwarts houses to me though, and I don’t know if I’m as confident in that decision as you. But I’m very flattered you think so!_

_Interesting thought. Mam always said I looked best in blue. Said it matches my eyes. Probably why I never wear blue. Go figure._

_Sounds grand, that. Fair sure he’ll let me tag along with Colm. Colm could use a holiday (and he’s rather anxious to get a bit more personal time with your man, Scott)._

Harriet’s grin intensified.

_So hopefully we’ll see you there. Be a grand adventure to be sure. Professor Howe is definitely going. Wants to keep an eye on the place. Seems to think there’s a chance that Solomon Kinney will be up to something. Can’t imagine why he’s so suspicious. It’s not like the fecker’s burned down an entire town or something._

Harriet rolled her eyes.

_Incidentally, I did see what those hags wrote about you. Just stab them in the eye with your wand. You were the best girl up there by a mile. Granted, personally I’d have preferred you off the stage, sharing a quiet chat over a coffee. Maybe in that first outfit. That was something else._

Harriet felt her cheeks get very warm.

_Anyway, hopefully see you tomorrow! (or today by the time you get this)._

_All the best,_

_Finn_

Harriet’s cheeks hurt from grinning as she put the letter back in its envelope and slid it into her pocket.

“How’s _Fiiiiiiiiiinn_?” Ronnie taunted, her eyes twinkling good-naturedly.

“He’s fine,” Harriet said quickly. “He might be coming today!”

Harriet gave Scott a look to match Ronnie’s. “He says Colm might too,” she said, giving Scott a wink.

Scott coughed, choking on his porridge. She heard a commotion and looked a little way down the table. Obelix had wandered off, and was now standing on the plate of kipper, giving his little growling call aggressively at everyone nearby, claiming the entire plate for himself. He had nearly taken one of Ronnie’s fingers off after she called him cute.

“That is the orneriest little bird I’ve ever seen,” AJ observed, nearby. “I like him.”

Harriet smiled softly at the little bird as it finally snapped up the biggest kipper on the pile and flapped his little wings as hard as he could, taking flight and struggling up towards the owl post vent.

“Me too,” Harriet said, watching little Obelix finally make it out of the Great Hall.

“You seem pretty calm, considering,” Kieran observed, sounding pleased.

“I know,” Harriet said, quite amazed. “I don’t know why, I just… I just have a great feeling about it. I don’t know if I’m going to win, but after this, it’s going to be over.”

“Just do your best and remember everything we practiced and I’m sure you will perform splendidly,” Hermione said, giving Harriet’s arm a comforting squeeze.

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harriet smiled back. “I just can’t help but—”

Harriet was cut-off when she saw a figure step into the doorway to the Great Hall. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and delight. It was Rachel, standing with a young man of about twenty. He was wearing a uniform like the one Rachel’s oldest brother, Aaron, had worn at the Yule Ball, but with noticeably less medals and ribbons. He wore glasses, but ominously, he had a patch over his left eye.

“RACHEL!” Tori and AJ shrieked at once and scrambled from their seats.

They were far from alone. Within seconds, all the other American students had risen from their seats and run over to join them, as had a good portion of Gryffindor house; Harriet and her friends included.

It was difficult reaching her, but finally Harriet managed.

“Hey, you!” Rachel said with glee, pulling Harriet into a tight hug.

Harriet grinned returning it.

“Hey!” she said smiling brightly. “Are you back for good?”

Rachel laughed and rolled her eyes. Harriet imagined she’d heard that question enough times by now.

“Yes,” Rachel grinned. “I still need to meet with a counsellor but they say I’m much better.”

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione said, giving Rachel a hug of her own.

“Thanks, Hermione!” Rachel replied, “So glad to be back!”

Many of the refugees were talking to the young man with Rachel. Rachel beckoned her fellow fourth years over to the young man.

“Everyone, this is my other brother, Blaine,” Rachel said in introduction.

“Charmed,” Blaine said.

Up close, Harriet was struck by just how tired he looked. He was a complete contrast to how Aaron had looked. The look in his remaining eye felt hollow to Harriet as she shook his hand.

“Ah, you’re Harriet Potter then,” Blaine said, his eye glancing up to Harriet’s scar. “Rach told me all about you on the way here. And you’ll be Jackson.”

Jackson was staring at Rachel in disbelief, as though he had thought she’d never return. Rachel blushed but smiled and walked over. She pulled Jackson into a hug so tight Harriet was sure Jackson was having trouble breathing, before taking Jackson’s hand and leading him over to Blaine.

“Yes, this is Jackson,” Rachel said. “Jackson, this is my other brother, Blaine.”

“Hi,” Jackson said quietly.

Harriet was sure she knew why Jackson was being apprehensive. The last time he’d spoken to one of Rachel’s brothers, he’d collapsed.

“Rach speaks really highly of you,” Blaine said, and his lips gave a smile that did not reach his eye. “Says you’ve taken good care of her and look out for her. Thanks. She means the world to Aaron and me. She’s all we’ve got left.”

Jackson went as red as the Gryffindor banners.

“Th-thanks, sir,” Jackson stammered.

Blaine snorted. “No ‘sir.’ Just a sergeant. Just call me Blaine.”

“O-okay,” Jackson replied.

“Think we should let them be,” Kieran whispered.

“Agreed,” Marcus replied and they made their way back to the Gryffindor table.

“See,” Harriet said, grinning as they sat. “Everything’s working out today. It’s all going to be great.”

Kieran shook his head, but his grin matched hers. “It’s so great to see this side of you. Usually you only ever get this cheerful _after_ a Quidditch match.”

Harriet shrugged. Today was going to go great. Nothing could mess with today. Nothing.

Just then, Professor McGonagall came walking up to them.

“Potter, the champions are congregating in the Entrance Chamber after breakfast,” Professor McGonagall said.

Harriet blinked. “But I thought the task wasn’t until tonight?” Harriet asked, feeling her first bit of panic rising. Had she mistaken the time?

“That’s correct, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said stiffly. “But the champions’ families are invited to watch the final task. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.”

Professor McGonagall moved off, back towards the staff table. Harriet felt her heart float. That had to mean Daniel, Remus, and Sirius were here. Harriet sprang up from the table and at once made her way towards the door, catching up with the other champions. Harriet peered inside.

She saw Cedric talking with his parents just to the left of her. Viktor Krum was with his own parents in a corner, all speaking excitedly in rapid Bulgarian. Fleur was talking with a woman who looked like an older copy of Fleur along with her sister, Gabrielle.

In another corner, Harriet saw Kazunari grinning ear to ear, his hands on Mayu’s shoulders as he spoke with a couple who could only be their parents. Harriet felt herself choke up slightly as Kazunari’s mother threw her arms around her son’s neck, practically sobbing tears of joy. Kazunari hugged her tight in return, and gave a little smile to his father, who was positively beaming at his son with pride.

Harriet blinked looking around. Aello wasn’t there. Harriet then remembered what she had overheard in the greenhouse. Aello had no family. She felt a pang of empathy.

“Oye!” came the gruff voice of Sirius from the fireplace.

Harriet’s heart leapt as she spotted them. However, her eyes went wide with shock a moment later. It wasn’t just Daniel, Remus, and Sirius. It was the three Marauders, plus Aurora and the twins, and Mrs Weasley and Bill. All of them were beaming at her just as proudly as Kazunari’s father.

Harriet hurried over, quickly giving everyone the tightest hugs she could.

“Surprise!” Mrs Weasley said as Harriet hugged her, kissing Harriet’s forehead. “Oh bless you, you’re getting so big and more beautiful every time I see you.”

Harriet blushed, but was secretly quite pleased.

“You all right?” Bill asked, only shaking Harriet’s hand. “Charlie wanted to come but he had to work. He said you were amazing against that Longhorn.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Fleur lean over at an awkward angle. Harriet glanced over and saw that Fleur was studying Bill with great interest. Unlike Mrs Weasley, Fleur clearly had no objection to long hair and fang earrings.

“It’s so great to see you!” Harriet said, happily.

“It’s great being back here,” Bill said looking around the room. “Haven’t seen this place for five years. Is that mad old night, Sir Cadogan, around?”

“Ya-huh,” Nanette chimed in. “He replaced the Fat Lady for a while last year.”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Remus patted his shoulder consolingly, though Harriet noted both Remus’ and Daniel’s lips twitching as they tried not to laugh.

“Oh, the Fat Lady,” Mrs Weasley smiled wistfully, reminiscing, “She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning—”

“What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?” Bill asked, his eyes wide with amazement.

Mrs Weasley’s eyes twinkled as a grin curled her lips.

“Your father and I had been out for a night-time stroll,” she explained. “He got caught by Apollyon Pringle—he was the caretaker in those days—your father’s still got the marks.”

Daniel, Remus, and Sirius all cringed.

“I remember Pringle,” Sirius said shaking his head. “He was always threatening us about what life was like in the ‘good old days before Dumbledore’ when they still allowed corporal punishment.”

“Filch idolized him,” Daniel said darkly.

“He hasn’t changed,” Harriet confirmed.

Aurora was looking around at them all with disgust on her face. Clearly in her school days, they had not had corporal punishment, either.

“Well, how about we have a tour?” Mrs Weasley asked, sounding more cheerful, and changing the subject.

“A splendid idea,” Aurora agreed.

The group headed towards the door. As they did, Mr Diggory finally spotted Harriet.

“Ah, there you are,” Mr Diggory said, his tone as accusatory as the one he used on Winky the night of the World Cup. “Bet you’re not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric’s caught you up on points, are you?”

Harriet stared up at him, as though he spoke another language. Before anyone else could even twitch, Aurora was standing between Harriet and Mr Diggory. Somehow, Harriet half expected her to hit him as she had Rita Skeeter.

“Mr Diggory,” Aurora said, her voice bristling. “Are you telling me that you took anything that Rita Skeeter has written about Harriet to heart? A woman who right now is in St Mungo’s until she’s fit to stand trial for blackmailing Harriet and forcing her to sign a contract against her will?”

Mr Diggory looked quite taken aback. He fumbled for words but Mrs Diggory just put a hand on Mr Diggory’s arm and turned him back away from Harriet’s party. Cedric gave his father a sour look before leaning over to Harriet.

“Sorry, really. He’s been like that ever since that first Skeeter article, the one that made out you were the only champion.”

Harriet sighed. Cedric gave her a sad little smile before re-joining his parents as Harriet’s group filed from the room. As they left, Aurora kept her hand on Harriet’s shoulder, defensively.

Harriet looked up at her. This was the third time in less than a week that Aurora had come to Harriet’s defence. She hit Rita Skeeter. She helped Harriet start to understand her changing body and mind. Now she had stood up to Mr Diggory for her without a moment’s hesitation.

Harriet slowly reached up and took Aurora’s hand, then took Daniel’s. They both smiled down at her as they walked along. They headed out into the grounds first, where Mrs Weasley and Bill marvelled over the Beauxbatons’ carriage, Durmstrang’s ship, the Four Nations’ flying dragon, and Mount Phoenix’s massive columned tent and herd of Areions. She also had the chance to introduce them to Epeius, who still seemed disinterested in getting to know any of Mount Phoenix’s horses.

“Puffed up, pampered princes and princesses,” he said, giving a loud blow through his nose in disdain. “They’ve done nothing but complain about the state of the stables and grounds since they arrived.”

They moved on from Epeius so Mrs Weasley could see the Whomping Willow. Harriet felt awkward here, as once the tree had nearly demolished Harriet, Ronnie, and Mr Weasley in Mr Weasley’s old flying Ford Anglia, which was now living wild in the Forbidden Forest. On seeing Hagrid’s cabin, Mrs Weasley began telling them all about Ogg, who was the groundskeeper before Hagrid.

“By the way,” Harriet asked looking up at Bill and Mrs Weasley. “How’s Percy?”

“Not good,” Bill replied.

“He’s very upset,” Mrs Weasley sighed. “He’s been hauled in for questioning about Mr Crouch. They say he should have recognized that there was something wrong with Mr Crouch and reported it. They’re not letting him fill in as the fifth judge tonight, either. Cornelius Fudge himself will be doing that.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Sirius muttered under his breath, sarcastically.

Harriet giggled.

Soon it was time for lunch and they returned to the school. They sat at the Gryffindor table, and Mrs Weasley immediately began showering them in stories of her youth.

“Mum, Bill!” Ronnie exclaimed as she joined the table. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to see Harriet in the final task,” Mrs Weasley replied, smiling cheerfully. “How were your exams?”

“Awesome!” Ronnie grinned. “Well, Care of Magical Creatures was great. History of Magic not quite as great.”

“Well that’s excellent news about Care of Magical Creatures, sweetie,” Mrs Weasley smiled approvingly. “You’ll be the next Newt Scamander at this rate.”

Ronnie blushed at the praise. She so rarely received any. Harriet saw Dora give Ronnie a little smile and wink. Ginny, Fred, and George also joined them. This was particularly awkward for Harriet and Fred, as they were still not really speaking to each other.

It wasn’t out of anger anymore. Harriet just didn’t know how to talk to Fred now. By the looks of it, Fred didn’t know how to talk to her either.

With the day’s exams over, they spent the afternoon with her friends exploring the inside of the castle. Mrs Weasley did most of the talking. Daniel, Remus, and Sirius had been in and out of Hogwarts so often over the last year that they were not as overcome with nostalgia.

Soon, it was time for dinner. Harriet gave her now customary dirty look at Professor Dumbledore when she noted that Cornelius Fudge and Ludo Bagman had arrived. Ludo Bagman looked his usual, cheerful self; chatting merrily with Professor Vector. Cornelius Fudge, on the other hand, looked in a sour mood.

Harriet imagined he was under considerable strain. She had mixed feelings about the Minister of Magic. He had always been nice enough to Harriet, but he was generally pompous and stubborn. It was then that Harriet remembered the night of Crouch Junior’s reveal. She recalled overhearing Fudge arguing with Professor Dumbledore, seeming unwilling to accept that Lord Voldemort was returning.

Her attention was pulled away by Hagrid. He kept leaning forward, stealing little glances at Madame Maxime. Madame Maxime was looking determinedly at her plate, however. Harriet studied them both. She knew Hagrid had once been sweet on Madame Maxime, but that had gone south she thought. Was Hagrid trying to open up to Madame Maxime again?

Harriet found she couldn’t eat very much. Despite her confidence, her nerves were finally starting to rear their head, and her insides were starting to feel fluttery and unsettled. She kept looking up at the ceiling, which was finally beginning to darken.

At the staff table, Professor Dumbledore rose and spread his arms wide.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time I will be asking you all to head down to the Quidditch pitch for the third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now to prepare?”

Harriet rose, as did the other champions. Harriet gave hugs as quickly as she could before hurrying off. As she did, she noticed the other champions getting final well wishes from their families as well, with one exception. Aello was already standing with Mr Bagman. She gave Harriet and the others a look that was very difficult to read.

Harriet had no time to ponder. Mr Bagman enthusiastically lead them from the Great Hall and out into the grounds.

“Feeling all right, Harriet?” Bagman asked as they neared the pitch.

“I’m okay,” Harriet replied.

As she looked up at Bagman, a pang of anger swept over her. He might not have been a Voldemort supporter, but Bagman was still a crook, no matter how friendly he acted. He had stolen from Fred and George. If it wasn’t for him, she and Fred would be happy right now. If she wasn’t mad at Fred, maybe that last dream would have finally been about him, instead?

_Dove_.

Harriet, Fleur, and Aello entered one of the changing rooms, while the boys entered the other. The trio of girls all changed in silence. Everyone’s nerves were too on edge for speech.

Once they finished changing into their jumpsuits, the girls joined the boys outside. Harriet noticed Cedric had not yet emerged.

“Where’s Cedric?” Harriet asked.

Kazunari’s lips twitched. “He had a guest.”

“Huh?”

“His girlfriend,” Krum said, and to Harriet’s surprise, he was smiling. Harriet didn’t think she had ever seen him smile before.

“She snuck in to ‘give him a good luck kiss,’” Kazunari explained.

Harriet rolled her eyes. It was then that something struck Harriet. For the longest time, she had harboured a not so secret crush on Cedric. Even at the second task, she had felt a twinge of jealousy seeing Cho Chang with Cedric. But now, after her time with Fred and her—whatever it was—with Finn, Harriet found she just didn’t feel the same way about him anymore.

Cedric had always been some ideal, someone out of reach, and so safe to fantasize about. However, now that she had been on actual dates, she found she much preferred dealing with boys for real compared to just thinking about them from a distance. Sure, she wasn’t in a real relationship (which Harriet thought was probably better for her now), but she had real boys who fancied her.

At that realization, Harriet found her brain freezing up. Boys fancied her. _Her_. How had the insanity of that never struck her until now?

Harriet was distracted by Cedric ambling out of the changing room. He was grinning ear to ear, stretching out his arms confidently, limbering up.

“So, you are feeling lucky?” Krum asked, giving Cedric a wry smile.

“Definitely the word for it,” Cedric replied, giving Harriet a smile and wink.

Harriet smiled back. Once more, she was struck by the fact that she felt no butterflies as Cedric smiled at her. He was just another boy now. He was still very handsome, and nice, but Harriet had more than enough handsome and nice boys to deal with at the moment.

By the sound of it, the stands were already almost full. Harriet took a deep breath. Was Finn among them? He would be hard to spot in the crowd.

“Boo.”

Harriet shrieked and she jumped so hard as two fingertips poked into her sides from behind that her feet left the ground. Harriet spun around. Her anger vanished at once as she looked up into Finn’s grinning face.

“Finn!” Harriet exclaimed.

Finn winked. “Didn’t think I’d go back on m’word, didye?” he asked, then looked around at the other champions. “How do?”

The other champions all gave him muted greetings. Harriet knew all their nerves were still high.

“You are the one from the Hallowe’en party?” Krum observed, holding out his hand. “You performed very well.”

“Cheers, mate,” Finn said, shaking Krum’s hand, grinning.

“You’re a muggle, right?” Cedric asked, smiling with interest as he shook Finn’s hand.

“s’right,” Finn replied.

“Cool,” Cedric nodded. “Welcome back to Hogwarts! So you go to Rathlin?”

“Aye, yeah,” Finn confirmed. “Since I were six.”

“Awesome, Krum’s right, you were great.”

“Ta,” Finn smiled more.

Finn introduced himself to the other champions. As he did, Harriet caught Cedric’s eye again. Cedric gave Harriet an approving little smile and winked, giving her a thumb’s up.

Harriet blushed and grinned with a deep sense of giddy. She might not really fancy him much anymore, but Cedric was still one of the most decent people Harriet knew, so his approval of Finn meant a great deal to her.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Fleur beamed, giving Finn her most radiant smile, holding out her hand the same way Adele Irene had held hers out to Daniel.

Harriet suddenly had a strong urge to turn Fleur into a cabbage.

“Charmed,” Finn said, just taking, and shaking Fleur’s hand normally.

Fleur stared at Finn, quite taken aback. Harriet just stared at him. Did Fleur’s Veela charms not work on Muggles?

“Well, think we’ve got a couple minutes,” Finn said, looking around. “Mind if I steal Harriet for a minute?”

Everyone but Fleur agreed. Fleur didn’t disagree, but she was staring at Finn in disbelief.

“Grand,” Finn said.

He beckoned Harriet to a spot just out of earshot of the others. She looked up at Finn but he just kept smiling back at her.

“So, good luck today, Dove,” Finn said sincerely. “But I doubt you’ll need it.”

“Th-thanks,” Harriet stuttered.

Finn’s smile grew. “Professor Howe told me on the way over how talented you are. Said he thinks you have a really good chance.”

Harriet found her throat had become very tight, and her teeth felt cemented together. Finn didn’t seem to need a response. Instead, his eyes twinkled.

“You’re so cute when you get all flustered like that,” he teased.

At once, the spell was broken and Harriet gave him an ever-suffering look. “Thanks, _that_ made me feel flattered.”

“Well it should, it’s true.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. Finn’s smile softened.

“And I meant it, you’re going to do great,” Finn said. “Go show-up Blondie over there.”

Harriet blinked. She had to know.

“How... how did she not affect you? Fleur’s part Veela. She usually makes boys go gaga.”

Finn snorted. “Okay, I have no idea what a Veela is, but trust me, I’ve seen her type before. I had her pegged the moment I saw her. Besides,” Finn’s eyes twinkled again and he winked. “Everyone knows Velma was way hotter than Daphne.”

Harriet furrowed her brows. _What the hell does that mean_? Harriet was distracted from asking by the sound of Ludo Bagman’s voice.

“Champions over here!” Bagman called.

Harriet looked around and saw him standing with the other champions, waving her over. Harriet bit her lip, and acted. She turned back to Finn, put her hands on his shoulders to pull him down just enough she could go up on tip-toe and pecked him softly on the lips.

“For luck, and all your help, and just… everything,” Harriet said.

Finn blinked a couple of times, but recovered himself.

“Heh, well, I _am_ Irish, Dove,” he chuckled.

Harriet waved back at him as she hurried back to the other champions. All but Fleur were giving her little teasing smiles. Fleur was smiling at Harriet as well, but it was different from the others. Fleur’s smile was more impressed.

Bagman led the champions out onto the pitch. As they stepped through the entrance, Harriet’s jaw fell open. The hedges were now twenty feet high. There was a large gap right in front of them leading into the maze. Harriet now felt as though her feet were made of lead. In the fading sunlight, the maze looked ominous and foreboding.

A small group approached them. Harriet saw that it was Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, Professor Spring, and the woman named Tonks who had been flirting with Remus after Sirius’ exoneration. All but Hagrid were wearing hats with red stars on them. Hagrid’s red star was on the back of his moleskin waistcoat.

“We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze,” Professor McGonagall explained. “Should any of you get into trouble, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you. Do you understand?”

The champions all nodded.

“Off you go then!” Bagman said jovially as the patrollers headed off to their stations.

Bagman pointed his wand at his throat, magically amplifying his voice.

“Ladies and gentleman, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! The rankings stand thus! In first place, with ninety points, Kazunari Watanuki of Four Nations! In second place, with eighty-five points, Harriet Potter, and Cedric Diggory, both of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

The audience erupted in applause at this. They were so loud a flock of birds rose from the Forbidden Forest.

“In third place, Aello of Mount Phoenix with eighty-points. Right behind her is Viktor Krum of Durmstrang with seventy-five points. In last place, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons with seventy points.”

There was polite applause for the other champions. Harriet scanned the crowd. She immediately saw her section of cheerleaders. She saw Daniel and Aurora sitting right at the front. Nanette and Rosie, it seemed, had joined the squad. Her friends were all there as well, along with Bill and Mrs Weasley. Harriet waved at them and the squad cheered loudly before turning to lead the crowd around them (mostly Gryffindors) in a chant that Harriet couldn’t quite make out.

“So, on my whistle!” Bagman said, “Kazunari! Three! Two! One!”

Bagman gave a short blast on his whistle. The Four Nations students cheered Kazunari on as he ran through the gaping entrance. He disappeared quickly around a corner.

Harriet’s heart was pounding. She had no concept of time as Bagman studied his watch, his whistle still in his mouth.

The whistle blew. Harriet jumped forward as if someone shoved her from behind. She and Cedric darted into the maze. It became almost pitch black within moments as the massive hedges blocked off the last remaining light of the setting sun.

“ _Lumos,”_ Harriet said, drawing her wand.

Cedric lit his wand as well.

“Heh, with the hedges this high, they can’t even see us anyway,” Cedric joked as they ran, panting.

They came to a fork in the maze. Harriet and Cedric stopped.

“Left or right?” Cedric asked.

“Uh, left,” Harriet said.

Cedric wished her good luck and he headed off down the right-hand path. Harriet hurried down the left. She shone her light as far ahead of her as she could. She was mentally preparing herself for anything.

Harriet heard Bagman’s whistle blow again. Aello was in the maze. Harriet gritted her teeth. She had to run into something soon.

Harriet’s fear proved founded in moments. Scarcely had the whistle blown a fourth time for Krum when she rounded a corner and found herself looking up at a massive door. It was pitch black and smooth; nearly as tall as the surrounding hedges. There was no way to climb it.

Just then, from behind her, she heard a snorting sound and a heavy foot stamp. Harriet spun around, raising her wand. There was a massive stag standing in the middle of the path. Its antlers glinted gold in the dim light of her lit wand. It was a Ceryneian. A stag this time. It pawed the ground again, looking down at Harriet imperiously. Harriet swallowed.

Would it attack her? It made no motion to do so. As Harriet studied it, she noticed that there was a key dangling from its right antler. Harriet looked back at the door. The key must be to the door. It was then that she noticed some writing on the door that hadn’t been there before.

 

_They say beauty calms the savage beast, but it’ll take more than a pretty face to pass this test. This door will take you on your way, but you’ll have to convince the guardian to hand over the key. Even more difficult will be convincing him to let you leave. The choice is yours: convince him to hand over the key, convince him to let you pass and find another path, or end your journey here. Choose wisely._

 

Harriet stared at the stag. What should she do? What had Professor Sutler taught them about Ceryneians? They were ridiculously fast, Harriet knew, almost as fast as Areions. If it attacked, Harriet didn’t have a hope of hitting it with a spell in time before it hit her with those massive golden antlers.

Harriet bit her lip. Ceryneians liked music. She remembered humming as they fed the hind. Harriet tried to think of a song. The only song to come to her head was the song Finn had dedicated to her at the Hallowe’en party. Harriet started to hum softly.

The stag gave another breathy snort, and pawed the ground again. However, it’s ears, which had been laid back aggressively, now pivoted around, towards her. Harriet kept humming. The stag’s breathing slowed.

Harriet slowly took a deep breath and stepped forward. The stag didn’t move towards her. It kept watching her, listening to her humming. Harriet slowly started towards the stag. It stood its ground, its big black eyes surveying her.

Harriet kept moving forward. The stag snorted again, but made no motion to attack. Harriet got to the end of the song and quickly started it over again. The stag continued to watch as Harriet drew level. She kept moving, her hands trembling. She could hear her voice shaking as she hummed.

Finally, she reached the stag. The stag kept looking down at her. Slowly, with a trembling hand, Harriet reached up with a quivering hand to the key. The stag, much to Harriet’s surprise, tipped its head, putting the key into her hand. Harriet blinked in surprise, and slipped the key off its tine.

“Th-thanks,” Harriet barely managed to say.

The stag snorted again, and Harriet resumed humming, backing up slowly towards the door once more. The stag kept watching her. Harriet fumbled behind her back for the door handle. She found it and finally took her eyes off the stag, slipping the key into the lock, turning it and opening the door. Harriet gave a huge sigh of relief as she shut the door behind her, leaning back against the door.

She had done it. She had faced her first challenge and beat it. Feeling more confident, Harriet held her wand flat on her hand once more.

_“Point me_ ,” Harriet said.

The wand spun around and pointed straight to her right, directly into a hedge. Harriet had to move northwest. She moved forwards, taking the left at the end of that path, looking to take the first right. She zigged and zagged, doing her best to keep heading northwest. Twice she came to dead-ends and had to double back to find another path.

She completely lost track of time. Here and there, Harriet would hear spells. Then, she heard feet behind her. She turned and raised her wand, expecting anything, but it was Cedric who rounded the corner coming towards her. Cedric was breathing heavily, but smiling all the same. Harriet noted that the left sleeve of his jumpsuit was smoking.

“One of Hagrid’s Skrewts,” Cedric said, grinning excitedly. “Only just got away. They’re enormous!”

Cedric shook his head and hurried off down another path. Harriet gave the direction Cedric came from an apprehensive look. She was not anxious at all to run into the Skrewts. She hurried in the opposite direction as fast as she could.

Harriet rounded a corner, and stopped dead in her tracks. There, lying in the middle of the path, was Daniel. Dead.

Harriet staggered. Daniel was lying flat out on his back. His eyes and mouth were gaping. A trickle of blood was coming from the corner of his mouth, more blood pooled on the ground.

Harriet fell to her knees. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. He couldn’t be dead. She just saw Daniel up in the stands.

Harriet blinked. That’s right, it couldn’t be Daniel. Daniel _was_ up in the stands. Harriet pushed herself to her feet.

“You... you’re a boggart,” Harriet declared.

Harriet stared at the prostrate boggart for a moment. Her boggart had changed. Harriet didn’t know that could happen. With nothing else for it, Harriet aimed her wand at the boggart and thought.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” she cried.

Nothing happened. Harriet grimaced. How could she make this image funny? Suddenly, she remembered Rachel’s boggart from the previous year. It had turned into one of her brothers dead. Rachel had made it funny by making it act as though her brother had simply been playing a silly prank.

Harriet thought again. Suddenly she smirked. She knew exactly how to make this funny.

“ _Riddikulus!”_

At once, a giant water balloon formed and landed upon boggart Daniel, bursting all over him. He jumped to his feet, spluttering, soaking wet, all the fake blood washed off him. Harriet repeated the spell and the boggart burst into a poof of smoke.

Harriet paused only to take a few deep breaths and press on. She had to get through this maze. She had to get to the Cup. She had to.

More zigging and zagging. She paused to use Hermione’s spell again. She’d gone too far east. Harriet doubled-back again, turning right. Around the next corner, Harriet was stopped short again. The path was coated in a thick, golden mist.

Harriet studied it. It was so thick that the light of her wand couldn’t make it through to the other side. She chewed her lip in thought. She wondered whether it was an enchantment, or a potion essence of some kind. Harriet was just about to air on the side of caution and go back to look for another way around when she heard a sharp, terrified shriek from up ahead, past the mist.

“Fleur?” Harriet called.

She thought it was Fleur. She couldn’t imagine Aello shrieking like that. Harriet squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and ran forward into the mist.

The whole world flipped upside down. Harriet froze in place. Her hair was hanging straight down, and she nearly dropped her wand in shock. Her glasses nearly slipped off her face and she only just managed to catch them in time before they went plummeting into the night sky below her.

Harriet’s feet were glued to the ground. Harriet looked down at them, the pressure in her head building as all the blood rushed into it. How was she supposed to get out of this? None of the spells her friends or even Crouch Junior had taught her would work in this situation.

Harriet closed her eyes, forcing her brain to think. It was difficult over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. As she saw it, she had two choices. Try and keep going forward, or send up sparks, get rescued, and fail.

Harriet lifted her right foot, hard. The world flipped back over in an instant. Harriet stumbled to the side, into the hedge. She was free.

Harriet paused only long enough to catch her breath before she hurried forward once more. Fleur was in trouble, and Harriet hadn’t seen any red sparks yet. What if it was Hagrid’s Skrewts and they had seriously hurt Fleur, or worse, before she could call for help?

Harriet looked around. The shriek hadn’t been that far away. What if Fleur was on a completely different path? Should Harriet keep looking for her? If she kept looking for Fleur, she was sure to lose the tournament. With nothing else for it, Harriet continued forwards.

Harriet was starting to get frustrated. She’d run into three dead ends now, and somehow managed to take the same wrong turn twice. She was running out of time.

She rounded another corner and gave her own cry of fright. It was a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Cedric hadn’t been lying. The Skrewt was enormous. Harriet trained her wand on it, ready for the attack but stopped. The Skrewt wasn’t moving.

Harriet blinked in surprise. The Skrewt, which now looked like a giant scorpion, was completely motionless. Was it dead?

Harriet crept forwards, her wand trained on the fallen beast. It didn’t so much as twitch. Someone had been through and already bested the Skrewt. Harriet wondered who it was. She figured it was either Aello or Kazunari. She knew Aello had bested some of the forest’s acromantulas before.

The Skrewt was at least ten feet long. Its armour glinted in the light of Harriet’s wand, and its stinger looked like it would have pierced straight through Harriet if it had stuck her. Harriet shook her head and continued onwards, grateful to whoever had been through this way already.

Two more dead ends. Once more using the Four-Point Spell to get her bearings. Yet another new path.

Harriet was getting winded. She had only travelled down this path for a few minutes when she heard spell work. A lot of spell work. She paused and listened. There were too many spells going off for only one person. She then heard two voices shouting. Two people were duelling. By the sound of it, they were on the opposite side of the hedge from her. Her suspicions were confirmed when a jet of red sparks shot through the hedge, almost grazing her right leg.

Harriet raised her wand and cried: “ _Reducto!”_

The spell cut a small hole in the hedge, just large enough for Harriet to fit through. Harriet grunted as she tugged a bigger, broken-off branch out and forced herself through.

Another spell just missed her as she climbed out. Harriet looked upon the scene in utter shock. Cedric and Kazunari were duelling. As she got to her feet, Cedric caught sight of her.

“Get back!” Cedric shouted at Harriet. “He’s gone mad!”

Cedric ducked another spell of Kazunari’s. In the process, he stumbled and fell on his back, dropping his wand. Cedric was helpless. Harriet acted instinctively. She aimed her wand at Kazunari’s back and shouted. “ _Stupefy!”_

Kazunari was hit square in the back. He fell to his knees, dropped his wand, before collapsing face down on the grass.

Cedric was panting heavily as he got to his feet. He looked embarrassed as he picked up his wand.

“Thanks,” Cedric said, rubbing his arm where he fell on it. “I’d have been done for...”

Harriet was staring at Kazunari in shock. She had stunned him. She hadn’t even thought about it, just acted.

“What... what happened?” Harriet asked.

Cedric shook his head. “No idea... I was just running along and he jumped out at me. Started firing curses at me. It was mad... just mad...”

“I can’t believe it...” Harriet said, kneeling slowly beside Kazunari. He looked oddly peaceful, his eyes closed, breathing deeply. Like he had just laid down for a nap.

“You heard Fleur?” Cedric asked, looking around.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “You think it was Kazu?”

Cedric shrugged. “No idea... I knew he wanted to win, but... not this badly...”

“What should we do with him?” Harriet asked.

“Dunno,” Cedric replied. “Leave him for the Skrewt?”

“Cedric!” Harriet hissed.

“Sorry,” Cedric said. “Right, let’s fire off some red sparks. They’ll come collect him.”

“Good idea,” Harriet agreed.

Cedric raised his wand and fired off the sparks. They hovered high in the sky, lighting up the scene. Cedric gave Harriet another awkward smile.

“Well, back at it then?”

“Huh? Oh, right.”

For a moment, Harriet had completely forgotten they were still competing. They continued down the path together, when they came to another fork.

“Same as last time?” Cedric suggested.

“You’re on,” Harriet smiled.

Cedric winked and headed down the right prong of the fork. Harriet hurried down the left.

Harriet shook her head as she headed off, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Kazunari was ambitious, but it wasn’t like him to cheat. Especially not attacking other champions. It just didn’t make any sense. Something was wrong.

However, the very next bend put Kazunari’s disturbing behaviour right out of her mind. She had just run into a truly extraordinary creature. One that she had only read about in _The Monster Book of Monsters._

It was a sphinx. Harriet gazed in wonder upon the creature. It had the body of a lion, but twice the size of ones she had seen in the zoo. However, it had a woman’s head, and its large, almond eyes were taking Harriet in with a deep cunning.

Harriet half-raised her wand. However, the sphinx didn’t look as though it were about to attack. In fact, it was lounging across the path, completely blocking passage, as if bored.

“H-hello,” Harriet said, feeling stupid the moment she finished.

“Greetings,” the sphinx replied in a deep, hoarse voice. “You are very near your goal. The quickest path is through me.”

“I see...” Harriet said. “And... how do I get through you?”

“By answering a riddle,” the sphinx said. “Answer correctly the first time, and I will let you pass. Answer incorrectly, and I will attack. Remain silent, and I shall let you leave, to choose a longer course.”

Harriet thought. This was something she would normally leave to Hermione or Scott. She was rubbish at this sort of thing. Then again, if Harriet found the riddle too hard, all she would have to do is leave and find a different path. It would be a set-back, but at least not life threatening. As far as she knew...

“Well, can I hear the riddle?” Harriet asked. “Please?”

The sphinx seemed rather pleased with Harriet’s courtesy, and rose, sitting on its haunches in the middle of the path.

 

“ _First think of the person who lives in disguise,_

_Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies._

_Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to mend,_

_The middle of middle and end of end?_

_And finally give me the sound often heard,_

_During the search for a hard-to-find word._

_Now string them together, and answer me this,_

_Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?_

 

Harriet stared.

“Uh, could I hear that again? A bit slower, please?”

The sphinx simply smiled and repeated the riddle. Harriet hummed, pacing the path, thinking. All the clues were supposed to add up to a creature she wouldn’t want to kiss. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were surely that, though Harriet doubted very much that was the answer.

She crouched, staring at the ground. She pondered the first part of the riddle. Someone who lives in secret and tells only lies? An imposter? No, that couldn’t be it. What animal had a name that started with imposter? Spy?

How would Hermione or Scott solve this? She remembered last year. Scott had been trying to figure out the inconsistencies in Sirius’ story. He had written it all out, and found that nothing added up to Sirius being guilty.

Harriet wrote “spy” in the dirt with the tip of her wand. As she did, she was aware of the sphinx looking down on her. The feeling gave Harriet a deep chill.

Harriet thought about the next part. Last thing to mend? Middle of middle, and end of end? Harriet closed her eyes. This would be easier, she thought, if she was reading it.

“Could I have the second part, again, please?”

The sphinx recited the third and fourth line. As she did, Harriet wrote in the dirt. Her eyes widened. The middle of ‘middle’, and end of ‘end,’ was the letter ‘d.’ It was also the last letter in ‘mend.’ Harriet wrote down a ‘d’ after ‘spy.’

A grin broke out on Harriet’s face. Spy-d. She thought she had it. But she just wanted to be sure.

“Okay, and the last part?”

The sphinx obliged, repeating the last four lines. Harriet furrowed her brow, thinking hard. This part was the hardest. What was a sound often heard while looking for a hard-to-find word? She looked at what she had already worked out.

The light flicked on at once in Harriet’s heard. She had it! Spy-d-er.

“Spider!” Harriet all but shouted, leaping to her feet. “It’s a spider!”

The sphinx only smiled in response. In fact, Harriet thought the sphinx looked rather pleased to see how well Harriet had worked out the riddle. It stood, stretched its front legs, and stepped out of the middle of the path.

“Thanks!” Harriet said, waving at the sphinx as she passed. The sphinx bowed her head back in response.

Harriet started running. She had to be close. The sphinx said this was the quickest route. This time, Harriet came to a three-way fork. She looked between them all, considering her options. She drew her wand, repeated the four-point spell. It pointed down the right-hand path. Harriet took it, and as she ran forwards, she saw a glint of light.

Harriet gaped. This was it. The glint of light was the Triwizard Cup, sitting on a plinth only a hundred yards down the path. She had done it. She was here.

Harriet started running. Her heart was hammering. She won. She had won.

“HARRIET!” a voice cried out from behind her. “ON YOUR LEFT!”

Harriet saw something move to her left out of the corner of her eye and jumped forward, rolling along the ground in just the nick of time. She rolled to her feet, looking up in horror as a giant spider, almost the size of Aragog, turned towards her. It was jet-black, with two large, glinting front eyes with six smaller ones around it. However, it was the massive, shining fangs dripping with venom that Harriet was the most concerned about.

The spider bore down on Harriet. Harriet fired a stunning spell at it but it did little more than make the spider pause and it seemed to shrug off the spell as if it was an irksome fly. Cedric hit the spider with a stunning spell of his own from behind. This seemed to hit harder and the spider spun and advanced on him instead. Harriet started firing stunning and impediment jinxes at the spider, trying to call its attention back. Cedric was firing his own at the monstrosity. It charged Cedric and he just managed to duck down under it.

The spider snarled in frustration. Harriet felt a chill as she heard the sound. She had forgotten that acromantula could speak. Somehow, this made the creature even more terrifying.

“HERE!” cried another voice. “Take on someone your own size! Here!”

Harriet looked around. It was Aello. She was glaring at the spider, her wand raised.

“YOU!” the spider roared.

Harriet remembered. Aello had slain at least one of the forest’s acromantula before. Clearly this one recognized her. It bore down on Aello now, snarling in fury. Aello fired her own spell at it. To Harriet’s shock, she did not fire a Stunning Spell or an Impediment Jinx. Instead, she set it on fire.

The giant spider gave out a terrifying, blood curdling scream. It spun in circles, throwing itself against the hedges, trying to put out the flames. Harriet saw Aello giving the beast a triumphant smirk, when it happened.

The giant spider flung out one of its legs in its panic and hit Aello square in the chest. Aello was thrown back into a hedge and fell to the ground, motionless. The spider tore off, attempting to flee the flames. Harriet and Cedric made for Aello at once.

To Harriet’s relief, Aello was stirring feebly as they reached her.

“Aello?” Cedric asked, kneeling beside the tall girl. “Don’t move. Can you feel your legs?”

“Of course I can,” Aello said, gasping in pain. “Can’t breathe.”

Cedric grimaced. Harriet looked at him, uncertain of what to do. If she was generally bad at solving riddles, she was completely useless as a healer. Cedric tenderly helped roll Aello on her back. Aello winced and cried out in pain.

Cedric tore open Aello’s robes to inspect her injuries. Harriet gasped. Aello was wearing her breastplate.

“You wore your armour?” Harriet asked.

“I just thought what Kazunari would do,” Aello admitted. “No one said we could not wear it.”

Cedric shook his head, looking impressed and amused at once.

“Viktor?” Aello asked, her breathing shallow. “Where is Viktor?”

“I... I don’t know,” Cedric said, his expression turning grim. “You’ve got some broken ribs, for sure.”

 “Of course I do,” Aello spat, giving Cedric a scathing look.

“Harriet and I can’t risk moving you, we’ll have to summon the teachers for you.”

“Don’t you—ah!—dare!” Aello snapped, gasping in pain. “I will not bow out of this like a coward!”

“Then—”

“Get to the Cup,” Aello said, glaring at them both. “You two beat me fair and square. But I am not calling for help. Understand?”

Cedric and Harriet looked at each other. They rose as one, looking down with pity on Aello.

“Spare me your pity,” she hissed, her face twisted in pain. “I have now bested four acromantula. I lead my barracks. Now go!”

“You’re an incredible woman, Aello,” Cedric said.

Aello looked taken aback at Cedric’s kind words. Harriet found herself still fumbling to make sense of the situation. Cedric looked past Harriet, and Harriet followed his gaze back to the Triwizard Cup. This was it. As far as Harriet knew, unless Krum showed up from nowhere, it was down to her and Cedric.

“You,” Cedric said, looking down at Harriet. “It has to be you.”

“What?” Harriet spluttered. “Me? Why me? I’d be spider food if not for you.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Cedric answered. “I got Hufflepuff house into the Triwizard Tournament. We’ve proven we’re just as good as the rest. You’re competing for the refugees. You’re bringing attention to what’s happened to them. That’s more important.”

Harriet stared at Cedric. How was he giving all of this up so easily?

“Together,” Harriet suggested. “We’ll win it for Hogwarts, for Hufflepuff, and—”

“No,” Cedric smiled, shaking his head. “You. You and the refugees. I’m giving this to you. Besides, this’ll show everyone you’re more than anything those articles have made you out to be this year. You’re Harriet Potter. You beat You-Know-Who. It’s time you showed everyone you’re more than just a famous name.”

Harriet’s cheeks were burning. Cedric’s smile grew. “I’ll stay here and look after Aello until the teachers come. Now go on, get going.”

Harriet felt tears in her eyes. On the one hand, she wanted to refuse. A distinct part of her mind was telling her it was the right thing to do. On the other, Cedric had a point. She was doing this for people who had suffered considerably more abuse over the last couple of years in the British wizarding press than Harriet had. She was Harriet Potter, and she was going to win the Triwizard Tournament in their name.

Harriet turned to start towards the cup, but paused. She turned back to Cedric and before he could react, she hugged him tight around the chest.

“Thank you, Cedric,” Harriet said, squeezing as tight as she could. “I’ll never forget this.”

Cedric chuckled. “Just do good things with the winnings, all right?”

Harriet smiled up at him, before turning back to the Cup. It was still gleaming beautifully in the light of the burning sections of hedge. Harriet started towards the Cup, slowly, one foot in front of the other. It was only five yards away.

Harriet reached the cup. She stared at it for a moment, unable to believe she had done it. She had beaten all the odds. She had certainly had help, but now she was here. Slowly, Harriet raised her hand towards one of the Cup’s large handles.

“Oh, remember to play along!” Cedric called after her.

“What?” Harriet asked, looking back at him just as her hand closed around the handle.

Harriet never had time to see Cedric and Aello. The moment her hand closed around the handle, there was a tug on her stomach, around her navel, and her feet left the ground. Harriet’s hand was locked on the handle of the Cup, her hair whipping behind her head as she was lost in a world of swirling colours and howling wind.


	41. The Graveyard

“My father taught me the importance of preparing for war, but working for peace. It is the finest of balancing acts. One must work for peace, because in preparing for war, ever will you encourage those to seek it. And yet, while working for peace, one must prepare for war, because even as you seek peace, war sometimes comes seeking you.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet’s feet hit solid ground. Her knees buckled and she fell, wincing in pain. Her knee had hit something hard. She pushed herself back to her feet, feeling a trickle of blood run down her leg from her skinned knee.

She looked down and backed up quickly. She had landed on a grave. Harriet looked around anxiously. Graves surrounded her. She drew her wand, lit the tip, and shone the light around. Her heart was racing, and her knee was hurting. Where was she? No one had said anything about the Cup being a Portkey.

Harriet’s mind was catching up with her situation. Cedric! Cedric had told her to play along, just like Crouch Junior had, and Kinney. Was Cedric in on it with them? Had he been put under the Imperius Curse? Was he Kinney? What had happened? When could they have gotten to him?

_Oh god,_ Harriet thought, her chest clenching in shame and horror, _Kazunari! It wasn’t Kazunari attacking Cedric! It must have been the other way around! I stunned Kazunari when he was defending himself!_

Harriet took some slow, calming breaths, trying to get a hold of herself. She took in her surroundings, trying to get her bearings. She saw a church in the distance, and an old manor house on a nearby hill. Once more, horror filled Harriet’s mind. Even in the dark and at this distance, Harriet recognized that house. It was the house she had seen in her last vision of Lord Voldemort.

Harriet shivered. She thought she could feel someone watching her. She shone her wand light around more frantically, trying to see something—anything—that would give her an escape.

Harriet caught some movement out of the corner of her eye. She spun around and aimed her wand. A short, squat figure was approaching, carrying a small bundle in its arms. Harriet steeled her resolve and kept her wand trained on the figure.

“Stay back!” she shouted.

The figure did not heed her. Now it was close enough that Harriet could see the bundle in its arms more clearly. It looked as though the figure was carrying a large baby. Harriet’s throat clenched. Somehow, she knew who the figure approaching was. It had to be Wormtail. Which meant the thing in its arms had to be—

Harriet cried out in shock and pain. The moment the approaching figure reached a massive headstone, a mere six feet away, her scar burned in a way it never had before. She clamped her hands to her forehead, crying out in pain louder. She felt like her forehead was going to rip open.

“ _Imperio_.”

At once, the pain abated. Her scar was still tingling, but she could ignore it. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the night sky, panting heavily. Her mind was blank. It was blissful, compared to how much pain she had just been feeling.

_Play along,_ a voice said in her head. _Just play along. Lie down. Relax. Just play along. It should help the pain. Play along. Don’t fight it. Play along_.

Harriet recognized the effect. It was someone giving her commands via the Imperius Curse. Her first impulse was to fight it, but as she did, the pain in her scar started returning. She stopped fighting at once.

_That’s it. Play along. Just lie down. Relax. Just play along._

Harriet was aware of another figure approaching. She watched, placidly, as Crouch Junior walked past her. He smiled down at her as he did, his grin smug and confident. However, as he passed, he gave Harriet the tiniest of winks. Harriet tilted her head back, watching him approach Wormtail.

“You see, my Lord,” Crouch Junior said. “She’s under our control. We may proceed.”

“Excellent,” came the raspy, high-pitched voice of Lord Voldemort. “Begin, Wormtail.”

“Yes, m-my Lord,” Wormtail stammered.

Harriet couldn’t see clearly. She could hear Wormtail panting, and the sound of something dragging across the ground.

_Sit up. Lean against the headstone. Sit up. You can’t miss this. Know your foe. Understand his power. Sit up._

Harriet sat up. It was a surreal feeling. She wasn’t sure if she was moving under her own power or not. She moved towards the massive gravestone. As she did, she saw the name upon it as Wormtail lit a fire.

 

_TOM RIDDLE_

 

She turned around and leaned back against the headstone. Crouch Junior kept smiling at her as Wormtail busied himself with the biggest cauldron Harriet had ever seen. It looked large enough for a fully-grown man to sit in.

Crouch Junior was holding the bundle. Wormtail was just finishing adding some sort of potion to the cauldron. The potion began boiling almost instantly. Not only that, it began emitting yellow sparks, and thick, billowing steam.

“ _Hurry_ ,” Lord Voldemort said. He was writhing in Crouch Junior arms, grunting in agitation.

Just then, a soft hissing distracted Harriet. She looked to her left and watched as the massive snake, Nagini, came into view. It raised its horrible head, looking at Harriet before slithering off, moving out of sight once more.

Harriet returned her attention to the cauldron. Its whole surface looked as though it was encrusted with diamonds.

“It is ready, Master,” Wormtail said.

“ _Now_...” Lord Voldemort hissed.

Crouch Junior slowly opened the bundle. Harriet almost retched. Lord Voldemort was hideous. He was about the size of a toddler, but his skin was scaly and dark red. His limbs were skeletally thin, and feeble. The worst part was his face. It was completely inhuman. It looked more like a snake than a human. It was flat with two slits where the nose would be. The eyes were glowing red with vertical, catlike pupils.

Crouch Junior delicately lowered Lord Voldemort down into the cauldron. He let go and there was a sizzling sound, followed by the thump of Lord Voldemort’s little body hitting the bottom of the cauldron.

_Drown,_ Harriet thought. _Drown..._

Wormtail drew his wand. His voice was quavering as he spoke.

“ _Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”_

The slab underneath Harriet cracked open. Harriet gasped, watching as a small cloud of dust rose into the air and flew over to the cauldron. It dropped inside, and at once the diamond surface of the potion broke, sending sparks in all directions before turning a vivid, poisonous blue.

Wormtail whimpered, and Harriet watched him draw a long, silvery dagger from his cloak. He rested his hand on a nearby tombstone and raised the dagger high. Harriet was about to look away, but the voice in her head commanded her to watch.

_Don’t look away. Play along. Watch. Know your enemy. Watch. Play along. See the loyalty Voldemort commands. You must face this someday._

“ _Flesh—of the servant—willingly given—you will—revive—your master!”_

Harriet cringed, but she did not look away as Wormtail brought the dagger down with all his might. He cried out in agony as the dagger cut halfway through his wrist. Blood sprayed over the headstone. As best he could, Wormtail raised the dagger another time, and this time successfully cut off his own hand.

Harriet felt nausea wash over her.

_Well done. Well done. Play along._

Wormtail stooped, picking up the severed hand. He moved over to the cauldron and dropped the hand inside. At once, the potion went bright red.

Wormtail picked up the dagger again. He staggered over to Harriet, and knelt beside her. Harriet felt herself panic as she stole a glance at Crouch Junior.

_Play along. Just a prick. Just a drop. Play along. My Lady._

Harriet was so distracted looking up at Crouch Junior reassuring smile that she didn’t notice Wormtail move.

“Ow,” she grunted as the point of the dagger pricked into the crook of her elbow. It only hurt for a moment. She supposed she was still under the influence of the Imperius Curse.

_Well done. My Lady. Well done. Play along._

Wormtail set down the dagger and drew a vial. He held it up to Harriet’s arm and let some of her blood run into it. He grunted to his feet, breathing heavily and raggedly. He left a trail of blood in the grass that glinted wet in the firelight.

“ _B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe...”_

Wormtail poured Harriet’s blood into the cauldron. The potion immediately turned blinding white, and began emitting sparks so dazzling that everything outside its light was turned to blackness.

Wormtail had collapsed, panting heavily, trying to staunch his bleeding with his robes. Crouch Junior meanwhile had moved to Harriet. He was tying a bandage around her arm. Ever so gently, he gave her a reassuring smile, and cupped her cheek.

“My lady...” he whispered softly. “So brave... soon... soon...”

Harriet felt a deep sense of disgust. And yet, deep down, she felt comforted, if grudgingly. However terrible he might be, Crouch Junior was the one person here who Harriet was sure did not mean her any harm.

Once, the idea of being turned to the Dark Arts terrified Harriet. But now... now she had Daniel, and Aurora, and the girls. She had her friends. If they were trying to kill her, she would never see them again. But if they were going to try and turn her to the Dark Arts, that could give Harriet time. That could give her a chance to escape and return to them.

Harriet was distracted as the sparks finally ceased and a massive billowing mass of white smoke surged from the cauldron, enveloping everything around them. It was so thick that Harriet couldn’t even see Crouch Junior.

Finally, the mist began to clear. Harriet watched, her sense of terror rising. She felt Crouch Junior put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Through the dissipating mist, Harriet could see a figure standing in the cauldron. It was tall and so thin Harriet could see his ribs and the ridge of his spine through his paper-white skin. It was clearly a man, though his back was to Harriet.

“Robe me,” spoke the high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort.

Crouch Junior rose and moved towards Lord Voldemort. He picked up the cloth the abomination Lord Voldemort had been swaddled in and unfurled it to reveal it was a robe. He pulled the robes up over Lord Voldemort’s head, helping him put his arms through the sleeves. Then, Lord Voldemort stepped from the cauldron and finally turned to look at Harriet.

His face was just as white as the rest of him. His eyes were the same, burning, glowing scarlet, and instead of a nose he still bore the two narrow slits.

Lord Voldemort turned his attention away from Harriet, beginning to inspect his newly remade body. His expression was almost jubilant, as he ran his long, spidery fingers over his chest and sides.

He paid no attention to either Crouch Junior or Wormtail as he drew his wand from the pocket of the robes. He ran his fingers along it, looking down upon the wand as though it was a long-lost friend returned after missing for years. Voldemort pointed the wand at Wormtail and gave it a flick in Harriet’s direction.

Wormtail was flung through the air. He hit against the side of the headstone Harriet was leaning against and crumpled to the ground. He gasped in pain and sobbed, holding up the stump of his arm. Harriet almost felt herself retch.

“Master... please master... you promised... you did promise...”

Lord Voldemort held out his hand lazily to Crouch Junior, instead.

“Your arm, Crouch.”

Crouch Junior drew back the left sleeve of his robe and held the arm out to Lord Voldemort. Upon it, Harriet saw a bright red mark. The same mark she had seen on Professor Snape’s arm during his argument with Professor Ilves. And the same mark Harriet had seen in the sky over the Quidditch World Cup. It was the Dark Mark.

“It is back,” Lord Voldemort said, more to himself than anyone else, “they will all have noticed it... and now we shall see... now we shall know...”

Lord Voldemort pressed his long, thin, white finger to the mark on Crouch Junior arm. At once, Harriet’s scar burned. Crouch Junior gasped and cringed, as if he had been burnt. When Lord Voldemort removed his finger from the mark, Harriet saw through tears of pain that it had turned jet black.

Lord Voldemort turned his eyes up to the sky. Crouch Junior lowered his robe, rubbing the mark as if it still pained him.

“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it, and how many will be foolish enough to stay away...?” Lord Voldemort mused.

The group fell silent, except for Wormtail’s laboured breathing. Harriet was sure he was going to bleed to death shortly. Harriet did her best to fight back a scowl, a dark voice in her mind telling herself that he deserved it.

After a couple of minutes, Lord Voldemort turned his attention to Harriet. A cruel smile twisted his inhuman face.

“You sit, Harriet Potter, upon the remains of my late father. He was a muggle, and a fool, much like your late mother. But they had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to save you as a baby, and my father—whom I killed—provided me the means to return to my body.”

Lord Voldemort paced again, his sense of excitement growing.

“You see that house, upon the hillside?” Lord Voldemort said, pointing out the house from Harriet’s vision. “My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived just outside the nearby village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she really was. He didn’t like magic... my father...

“He abandoned her and returned here to his parents before I was even born. He left her to die giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a muggle orphanage. But I vowed to find him... I revenged myself upon him... that fool who gave me his name... _Tom Riddle_.”

Lord Voldemort laughed mirthlessly.

“Ah, listen to me, Harriet... reliving family history... I’m growing quite sentimental. But look! Harriet, look! My true family, your new family, returns!”

All around them, Harriet could now hear faint popping and the swishing of cloaks. Everywhere Harriet looked, cloaked figures were Apparating. All of them wore masks. They slowly moved forward, into the light, gazing upon Lord Voldemort in shock and amazement.

Then, one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees and crawled forward, stopping to kiss the hem of Lord Voldemort’s robes.

“Master... master...” he murmured.

With a sense of revulsion, Harriet recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy. One by one, the other Death Eaters all did the same. Then they rose and backed away, forming a circle around them. Harriet blinked looking around. Where had Crouch Junior gone?

The Death Eaters left gaps in the circle. It looked as though they were expecting more to arrive. Lord Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect anymore as he strode around the circle, inspecting the masked faces. As he went, a shiver seemed to move along in his wake.

“Welcome, Death Eaters,” Voldemort said quietly, dangerously. “Thirteen years... thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday... we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! _Or are we?_ ”

Lord Voldemort closed his eyes, tipping back his head, and sniffing deeply.

“I smell guilt,” he growled. “There is a stench of guilt upon the air.”

A second shiver passed around the circle.

“I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact—such prompt appearances—and I ask myself... why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?”

The only sound was that of Wormtail, sobbing and retching in pain.

“And I answer myself, they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back amongst my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment...

“And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power, in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

“And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort... perhaps they now pay allegiance to another... perhaps to that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?”

At this, the circle stirred. Some muttered and shook their heads. Others quivered in terror.

Lord Voldemort ignored them. “It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed.”

One of the Death Eaters flung himself towards Lord Voldemort. He landed at his feet, trembling, and pleading.

“Master!” he cried. “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!”

Lord Voldemort merely laughed. He raised his wand and pointed it at the man.

“ _Crucio_.”

The Death Eater screamed and flopped over on his back, writhing in sheer agony. Harriet was sure, or at least hopeful, that his cries would carry to the nearby houses.

Voldemort relented. The man lay flat on his back on the ground, panting heavily.

“Get up, Avery,” Lord Voldemort whispered, his voice full of disdain. “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen years... I want thirteen years repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has already paid some of his debt, have you not, Wormtail?”

He finally turned his attention to Wormtail, who now could barely breathe.

“You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, master,” Wormtail managed to moan. “Please, master... please...”

“Yet you helped return me to my body,” Lord Voldemort said. “Worthless and traitorous though you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers.”

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it around elegantly. It left in its wake a stream of molten silver. The silver came together, moulding itself into the shape of a human hand. It floated downwards and fastened itself to Wormtail’s bleeding stump.

Wormtail stopped sobbing at once. He held up the hand, his breathing still ragged, but his face alight with wonder. It looked as though he was wearing a silver glove as he turned it this way and that, flexing the shining fingers. He reached down and picked up a twig from the ground. He clenched his hand on it and when he opened the hand again, the twig had been crushed into powder.

“Master,” Wormtail gasped in delight. “Master, it is beautiful... thank you... _thank you_...”

Now Wormtail scrambled forward and kissed the hem of Lord Voldemort’s robes as the others had done.

“May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail,” Lord Voldemort threatened, his voice icy and dangerously calm.

“No, my Lord, never, my lord...” Wormtail said, still studying his hand as he joined the circle.

“Now... I have one more to repay for his loyalty...” Lord Voldemort said, strolling along the circle once more. “His price was much cheaper than Wormtail’s... and much more justified. Unlike the rest of you, he sought me out... he tried to find his master, and found himself in Azkaban for it. He is here tonight... waiting for his repayment. You may have it now, Crouch.”

“ _CRUCIO!”_

Crouch Junior voice cried out into the night. At once, the figure beside Wormtail screamed in pain, collapsing to his knees before curling up on the ground.

_“CRUCIO! CRUCIO!”_

Harriet watched in horror. Crouch Junior onslaught was relentless. Death Eaters tried to scramble, drawing their wands looking for their attacker. It was no use. Half of them were already on the ground, too pained to rise fast enough. Before long, all of them were curled up, writhing in agony.

Finally, Crouch Junior emerged from the shadows. His face was mad, as if he was at once angrier than he had ever been, and yet as happy as it was possible to be.

“You are satisfied?” Lord Voldemort asked.

“Yes, my Lord,” Crouch, Jr said. “Thank you, my Lord...”

Slowly, the Death Eaters all rose. Lord Voldemort looked around at them all, threatening. The Death Eaters all put away their wands, giving Crouch Junior cold, pained looks.

“Crouch here was loyal to me,” Lord Voldemort said. “Along with the Lestranges. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. This was a fitting reward for a loyal Death Eater, to teach his fellows what it costs to cross Lord Voldemort.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” growled a dark voice that Harriet thought she recognized.

“Ahhhh, he was, Macnair,” Lord Voldemort said. “But Crouch here proves himself to be just as hard to kill as I am.”

Lord Voldemort crossed to the man. “I hear you have lost none of your bloodlust, Macnair. Slaughtering dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic, I hear... you will have more fitting victims than that shortly. Lord Voldemort shall provide...”

“Thank you, master, thank you...” Macnair muttered, bowing his head.

“And here we have Crabbe and Goyle... you two will do better this time, will you not?”

They both bowed clumsily and muttered dully, sounding much like their gormless sons: “Yes, master... we will, master...”

“The same for you, Nott.”

“Master, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful—”

“That will do,” Lord Voldemort said dismissively.

He reached the largest gap. “And here we have six missing Death Eaters. Three dead in my service. One dead at the hands of another of our honoured guests.”

Harriet blinked, wondering who that could be. She stole another glance at Crouch Junior. How long was this going to go on?

“One, who I believe has left me forever... he will be killed, of course.”

“My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy said, stepping forward from his place beside Wormtail. “Severus has indeed returned.”

Harriet’s throat clenched. He had to mean Professor Snape. Who else would be called Severus? What did that mean? Lord Voldemort was apparently equally confused.

“What?”

“My Lord, mere weeks ago, Severus came to me,” Lucius Malfoy explained. “He said that a former Death Eater had been discovered hiding at Hogwarts. He said that this Death Eater—who I’m assuming was you, Crouch—” Malfoy interjected coldly “—told him that you, my Lord, had returned. He said that Dumbledore detected no lie in the man. We have since been searching for you night and day.”

“Has he, now...” Lord Voldemort said, and Harriet could detect pleasure in his voice. “Excellent... then why is he not here?”

“My lord, he bid me to tell you that should the mark burn, he would wait to return on Dumbledore’s orders. Only then could he continue his work as your spy.”

Lord Voldemort looked buoyant with excitement. “Marvellous!” he exclaimed. “Simply marvellous!”

Harriet noted Crouch Junior expression as he took one of the places in the big gap. He did not look as though he thought this was marvellous in the slightest.

“Master,” Lucius Malfoy went on, “we crave to know... we beg you to tell us... how have you achieved this... this miracle... how have you managed to return to us?”

“Ah, what a story it is, Lucius,” Lord Voldemort replied, his voice wistful. “And it begins, and ends, with our youngest guest of the night.”

Lord Voldemort walked over, standing next to Harriet. She looked up at him slowly. As he neared, the tingling in her scar began to burn, becoming too much for the Imperius Curse to disconnect her mind from.

“You know, of course, that they have called this girl my downfall?” Lord Voldemort said, his voice quiet as his eyes met Harriet’s. Her scar began to burn even more.

“You all know that on the night I lost my powers and body, I tried to kill her. Her mother died in the attempt to save her—and unwittingly provided her with a protection I admit I had not foreseen... I could not touch the girl.”

Lord Voldemort knelt and raised one of his long, bony fingers, moving it to within an inch of Harriet’s cheek. Her scar was starting to sear. Tears were building in her eyes again as she forced herself to stay still.

“Her mother left upon her traces of her sacrifice... this is old magic, I should have remembered it. I was foolish to overlook it... but no matter. I can touch her now.”

The cold tip of Lord Voldemort’s finger touched her cheek. Harriet couldn’t help it and she cried out in pain. Lord Voldemort simply chuckled as he removed his finger. He turned to address the Death Eaters once more.

“I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman’s foolish sacrifice and it rebounded upon me. Aaah... pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body. I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost... but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know. I, who have gone further down the road that leads to immortality. You know my goal—to conquer death. And now I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked... for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself... for I had no body, and ever spell which might have helped me required the use of a wand...

“I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist... I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited... surely one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me... one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body... but I waited in vain...”

A third shiver ran among the Death Eaters. Only Crouch Junior looked unshaken by Lord Voldemort’s words. Lord Voldemort let the chilling silence linger before continuing.

“Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals—snakes, of course, being my preference—but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill-adapted to perform magic, and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lived long.”

“Then, four years ago... the means of my return seemed assured. A wizard—young, foolish, and gullible—wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of... for he was a teacher at Dumbledore’s school... he was easy to bend to my will... he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Philosopher’s Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted... thwarted, once again, by Harriet Potter...”

The clearing fell silent once more. Not even the nearby yew tree’s leaves were rustling. The Death Eaters were all stony silent.

“The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as I had ever been. I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn’t then fear that I might never regain my powers... yes that was perhaps my darkest hour... I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess... and I had given up Hope now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me...”

A fourth shiver around the circle.

“And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last. A servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumoured I was hiding... helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them...

“But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food...and whom should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic?”

Lord Voldemort’s lips curled into an unpleasant smile.

“Now see the way that fate favours Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail, displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected of him, convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a night-time stroll. He overpowered her... and brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams...for—with a little persuasion—she became a veritable mine of information.

“She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be held at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things... but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her.”

Lord Voldemort smiled again.

“Wormtail’s body, of course, was ill-adapted for possession, as all now know him to be the traitor who betrayed the Potters so many years ago, and would attract far too much attention if seen. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail could follow the instructions I gave him which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own. A body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth. A spell or two of my own invention... a little help from my dear Nagini—” Lord Voldemort’s eyes fell upon the great snake which had returned, slithering through one of the gaps “a potion concocted of unicorn blood and the snake venom Nagini provided... I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.

“There was no hope of stealing the Philosopher’s Stone. I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower... I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

“I knew that to achieve this—it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight—I would need three powerful ingredients. The flesh of a servant—” he gestured at Wormtail “—my father’s bone, which naturally meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried, and lastly the blood of a foe...”

Lord Voldemort grinned darkly at Harriet. “Wormtail would have had me use the blood of any wizard. Any wizard who had hated me... as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harriet Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago, for the lingering protection her mother once gave her, would then reside in my veins too...

“But how to get at Harriet Potter? For she has been better protected than I think even she knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the girl’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the girl’s protection as long as she is in her relations’ care. Not even I can touch her there...”

Harriet’s eyes went wide. That was why. That was why Professor Dumbledore had stopped Daniel from adopting her. That was why he had made her go to live with the Dursleys.

“Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup. I thought her protection might be weaker there, away from Albus Dumbledore and her relations, but I was not strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards on the alert for suspicious activity. And then the girl would return to Hogwarts, where she would be under the crooked nose of that muggle-loving fool from morning till night.

“So how to get at her? Why, by using Bertha Jorkins information, of course. Station my one faithful Death Eater at Hogwarts, under the guise of Mad-Eye Moody. An arrangement that worked extraordinarily well... until he made the pitiful mistake of becoming too glib around that pestilential nuisance, Sherrod Howe...”

A wave of hissing utterances of disdain swept over the circle at the mentioning of Professor Howe’s name. Harriet understood why. Professor Howe, Harriet was sure, was responsible for many of the circle’s gaps.

_Soon. Soon, my Lady. The biggest gap. Past me. I’ll slow them. Prepare yourself._

Harriet looked at Crouch Junior, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he looked as though he was steeling himself.

“You know the punishment for failure, don’t you, Crouch?” Lord Voldemort said, his voice icy once more.

“Yes, my Lord,” Crouch, Jr replied.

_“Crucio_.”

Crouch Junior screams pierced the night. Harriet cringed, both from the sight of Crouch Junior writhing in pain, and the pain that shot through her scar. Finally, Lord Voldemort relented, and Crouch Junior panted, getting to his feet.

“However, all was not lost,” Lord Voldemort continued, as if nothing had happened. “For Crouch here had the forethought to approach one who has proved himself most useful, and who carried out our goal of bringing Harriet Potter to us tonight. You are already here, are you not, Solomon Kinney.”

The Death Eaters all looked around in surprise. From the shadows, stepping into the large gap next to Crouch Junior, strode Solomon Kinney. Harriet felt herself pull back. The sight of Solomon Kinney was almost as terrifying to her as Lord Voldemort.

Solomon Kinney looked around the circle. His expression was one of mild amusement.

“You,” Harriet gasped, sitting up.

Solomon Kinney smiled at her pleasantly. Harriet thought she would have preferred him sneer.

“Hello again, Harriet Potter,” Solomon Kinney said, doffing his white hat.

“What did you do to Cedric?” Harriet asked.

_Easy, my lady, easy_.

Solomon Kinney placed his hat back on his head.

“I’m sure by now they’ve discovered his unconscious body in the changing room.”

Solomon Kinney shrank, and to Harriet’s horror, his face changed into Cho’s.

“Oh, Cedric... I’m so proud of you... you’re going to be amazing tonight,” Kinney said in Cho’s voice, making it sound sultry and vapid, before he returned to his normal form.

“But how...?” Lucius Malfoy asked. “How did you get her here?”

“I had to get through the maze and to the Cup first to make it a Portkey, after all. That would be much easier as one of the champions,” Kinney said returning his attention to Harriet. “Excellent work doing my job for me with Watanuki. I stunned Fleur first, then Krum, then finally Aello before I made my escape. She was rather upset when you vanished. She was prepared to kill me had I not been faster on the draw.”

“Why didn’t you just kill them?” Harriet asked, angrily. “That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Kinney smirked. “I do what I’m paid to do. I was only promised payment for getting you to the centre of the maze. Besides, Aello, in particular, impressed me, standing her ground against a twenty-foot spider, setting it aflame, then refusing rescue despite broken ribs. No, the world is much more interesting with people like her in it.”

“This is irrelevant,” Lord Voldemort said, impatiently. “Lucius, Mr Kinney has already been paid half of his fee by Crouch Junior from his father’s funds. If you would be so kind as to pay him the second half.”

“I—of course, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy spluttered in surprise.

“Excellent,” Kinney said, turning to Lucius Malfoy. “It is a considerable sum... but by all counts it will not be a problem for you. Shall we settle up at your manor?”

“Y-yes, if that is acceptable, my Lord?”

“Go,” Lord Voldemort said dismissively. “Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers, and without Solomon Kinney’s involvement, none of us would be here now.”

Solomon Kinney tipped his hat to Lord Voldemort. “A pleasure doing business,” Solomon Kinney said, before following Lucius Malfoy a few steps away. They both drew their wands and Disapparated.

Harriet was steaming. Kinney. It had been Kinney all along. How could he keep doing this? How was he always one step ahead?

“And so, here she is, my Death Eaters, the one you all believed responsible for my downfall.”

_This is going to hurt, my lady..._

“ _Crucio_!”

Harriet screamed. Every inch of her was in pain. The pains in her scar were nothing compared to this. She felt as though her very bones were on fire inside of her. She wanted to pass out from the pain, but it wouldn’t come. She wanted to die, for it all to end.

_I’m sorry, my Lady... I’m so, so sorry..._

The pain ended as quickly as it arrived. Harriet had fallen on her side, her breathing heavy and wheezing. She could hear the cold sniggers of the Death Eaters around her.

“Yes, you will take some breaking before you become my new tool, won’t you, Harriet Potter,” Lord Voldemort said, his burning red eyes looking down on her imperiously. “You see now, my Death Eaters, how foolish it was to think this girl could ever have been stronger than I, Lord Voldemort. But now... she is to become one of us. The ultimate failure of Albus Dumbledore.”

Lord Voldemort turned his back on Harriet again, addressing his Death Eaters. “She is under the Imperius Curse now... controlled by Crouch. She will return to Hogwarts soon, claiming she escaped us. A harrowing tale.”

Harriet looked down at her wand. It was inches from her hand.

_Take it, my Lady. No more playing along. Your moment is upon you. Now!_

Harriet grabbed up the wand. She forced herself to her feet, her mind clearer than it had ever been. Lord Voldemort turned, and surprise filled his burning eyes.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Lord Voldemort almost got his wand up, but not in time. To Harriet’s own amazement, Lord Voldemort’s wand flew from his long, bony fingers, spiralling off into the dark graveyard. For a second, no one moved, as though not a soul could believe what just happened.

“Run!” Crouch Junior shouted. “Portkey!”

Crouch Junior drew his wand and pointed it at the cauldron. Harriet ducked behind the headstone she had been lying against.

“ _Confringo!”_ Crouch, Jr shouted.

The cauldron and the fire-pit beneath it exploded. Shrapnel and cinders flew everywhere. Death Eaters cried out in panic and pain as they were struck by flying fragments. Harriet ran for it.

“STOP HER!” Lord Voldemort screamed from behind her. “STUN HER!”

The Death Eaters had recovered. Harriet didn’t look back to see what had become of Crouch, Jr. Her only thought was getting to the Cup to take her back. Stunning spells began lighting up the sky, flying past her as she zigged and zagged through the headstones. Harriet turned and ducked behind one. She aimed her wand at a headstone with two Death Eaters standing beside it.

“ _Confringo!”_ Harriet shouted. The headstone exploded, causing the Death Eaters beside it to be flung to the side, peppered with fragments of marble.

Harriet shot more headstones, exploding them and causing more Death Eaters to duck in cover. Harriet started running again. She was ignoring the pain in her scar and arm. She had to get to the Cup.

Harriet stopped dead in her tracks. Looming out of the darkness in front of her, rage on his face, his eyes blazing as if fires were burning inside them, was Lord Voldemort, directly between Harriet and the Cup. He had recovered his wand, and was raising it towards her. Harriet acted instinctively, raising her wand as well.

They both shouted their incantations at the same time.

“ _Expelliarmus!”_

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Harriet felt as though time slowed as the green jet of light from Lord Voldemort’s wand shot towards her, and the red light of Harriet’s wand flashed towards Voldemort in reply. Harriet closed her eyes. The end was coming. The unblockable Killing Curse was coming towards her. This was it.

An electric shock ran up Harriet’s arms and it caused her to clench her hand down in a vice-like grip on her wand, which was vibrating madly. Harriet opened her eyes in shock. There was a long, crackling arc of light connecting her wand and Lord Voldemort’s. It was the colour of pure gold. Harriet looked up at Lord Voldemort with astonishment, and saw her own surprise reflected on Lord Voldemort’s face. His wand was shaking just as much as Harriet’s.

If this surprised Harriet, it was nothing compared to what happened next. Slowly, both Harriet and Lord Voldemort were lifted from the ground. They were hovering, a few feet off the ground, slowly revolving in a circle around an invisible fulcrum halfway between their wands. The Death Eaters had gathered around them. Harriet could not see Crouch Junior amongst them. She didn’t know if he had escaped or been killed or captured.

Harriet was distracted from thinking about Crouch Junior as the beam connecting their wands splintered and grew. It split into a thousand threads, expanding out, creating a glowing golden cage around Harriet and Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort’s eyes were wide, and he was tugging on his wand, as if trying to break the connection. Harriet stared in disbelief. He was afraid. Lord Voldemort’s face was full of terror.

This emboldened Harriet. If Lord Voldemort was afraid of the connection, then Harriet had to keep it going. She put both hands on her wand, willing the connection to remain.

“Do nothing!” Lord Voldemort cried to his Death Eaters, some of whom were drawing their wands. “Do nothing unless I command you!”

The spectacular events were not done. No sooner had Lord Voldemort given his command than a beautiful, radiating sound filled her ears. It was coming from every thread of the golden web around them. It was phoenix song.

The sound of it filled Harriet with even more hope. It was a sound she associated with Hogwarts, with everything good in her life. Harriet felt as though it was speaking to her. In fact...

_Don’t break the connection._

_I know_ , Harriet thought. _I know I can’t_.

However, the moment she thought that, the wand in her hands began to vibrate more powerfully than ever and she was having a truly hard time keeping hold of it. The beam of light connecting the wands changed as well. Small beads of light were sliding up and down.

Slowly, the beads started moving towards Harriet’s wand. As they did, Harriet’s wand began vibrating increasingly violently. It also started getting hotter, as though it was about to burst into flames in her hands. Harriet knew one thing: she had to keep that first bead from reaching her wand.

Harriet gripped the wand even tighter, despite how much it was burning her hands and shaking, and willed with all her might to force the beads back to Lord Voldemort. To Harriet’s further amazement, and relief, the beads stopped, and gradually began sliding back up the beam of light towards Lord Voldemort’s wand. The heat dissipated from Harriet’s wand, and now Harriet saw that it was Lord Voldemort’s wand that was shaking violently.

Harriet looked up into Lord Voldemort’s face. True terror was palpable. The more afraid Lord Voldemort was, the more emboldened Harriet felt. She was beating him. She was conquering Lord Voldemort.

The lead bead was now only an inch from the tip of Lord Voldemort’s wand. Harriet screwed up her face, summoning every ounce of her strength and will. She didn’t even know what it would accomplish, but every fibre of her being told her to make that bead connect with Lord Voldemort’s wand.

She did it. The bead of light connected. The moment it did, Lord Voldemort’s wand began emitting screams. Echoes of the Cruciatus Curses he had cast upon Harriet, Crouch Junior, and the Death Eater. The screams vanished, and now a puff of smoke emerged from the wand, forming itself into the shape of a human hand. The silver hand he had conjured for Wormtail.

More screams. Then, nothing could have prepared Harriet for what came next. More smoke emerged from the wand, and this time it formed itself into a human head. Shoulders followed, then a torso. The shadow form of an elderly man settled on the ground between Harriet and Lord Voldemort. He looked up at the slowly revolving pair, wonder on his ghostly grey face. The smoke was so dense that he looked solid.

“He really was a wizard then,” the man said. “Killed me, that one did... You fight him, girl!”

Another figure began to emerge. A woman this time. Harriet did not recognize her, but Harriet knew it could only be the shade of Bertha Jorkins. She joined the old man, looking upon the spectacle with wide eyes.

“Don’t let go, Harriet,” Bertha Jorkins encouraged Harriet, her hands over her mouth in a way that reminded Harriet of Hermione. The thought of Hermione and her friends filled Harriet with even more hope and drive.

“Don’t let go, don’t let him get you, Harriet—don’t let go!”

Bertha Jorkins and the man whispered words of encouragement to Harriet as she passed. As Lord Voldemort passed them, she could just hear them hiss harsh words at him. The Death Eaters flitted around the outside of the golden web.

Another face emerged from the wand. Harriet felt her throat clench. She knew who it was the moment it started to appear. It was the head of her mother. Lily’s shoulders emerged from the wand, and eventually she fell to the ground to join Bertha and the old man.

Harriet looked down at her with mixed amazement and longing. She had only ever seen her mother in the Mirror of Erised and the photo album that Hagrid had given her. Despite her being entirely smoky grey, Harriet could imagine her brilliant green eyes and flowing red hair.

Even in the grey, Harriet could see the smoke form little tears sliding down Lily’s cheek as she smiled up at Harriet sadly.

“Your father is coming, dear,” Lily’s shade said. “He really wants to see you... it will be all right... hold on...”

He came, just as the others had. First his head, then shoulders, then the rest of him. The smoke form of James Potter settled down beside Lily, putting an arm around her shoulder, and smiling up at Harriet with pride.

James and Lily walked closer to Harriet. They walked along with her as she and Voldemort spun slowly.

“When the connection is broken, we will linger only moments...” James said. “But we will give you time... get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts... do you understand, Harriet?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Harriet said automatically, tears flowing in her own eyes as she considered her father’s ghostly face. She was struggling to keep hold of the wand in her sweaty hands.

“We’re so proud of you,” Lily said. “So very proud... Be sure to be a good big sister to the twins,” Lily said. “Aurora already cares for you so...”

“Yes, Mum,” Harriet replied, her heart in her throat.

“Look after Daniel, Remus and Sirius for me,” James said, smoke tears on his cheeks. “They’re going to need you now more than ever in the days ahead... Especially Daniel, and tell him... tell him I’m sorry...”

“I will, Daddy,” Harriet whispered.

 “That’s my girl,” James whispered. “Do it now. Be ready to run... do it now!”

“NOW!” Harriet shouted.

She doubted she could have held on any longer anyway. She wrenched her wand upwards with every bit of strength she had left. The stream of light connecting the wands broke. The golden web vanished, but the shadowy figures did not. They charged Lord Voldemort, shielding Harriet from sight as she fell to the ground.

Harriet did not hesitate. She ran towards the Cup as fast as her legs could go. She shoved two of the stunned Death Eaters aside, dodging between headstones once more as more spells shot past her. Harriet fired back, casting _Confringo, Impedimenta,_ and _Stupefy_ indiscriminately over her shoulder.

A Stunning spell smacked into one of the headstones next to Harriet. Harriet stumbled and tripped, falling a few yards short of the Cup. She rolled behind another headstone, and was instantly pinned down by the barrage of Stunning Spells. They had trapped her. She couldn’t risk stepping out or she would be stunned. This was it.

A low, brass horn blew. The spells stopped. Harriet remained in place, listening. What had that been?

All around them, Harriet heard low, mournful calls. Those weren’t the same as the horn she had just heard. They sounded bestial; chilling and cold.

The next sound Harriet heard was that of pounding, galloping feet. A shrill cry rent the air, followed by a scream. Harriet looked up in astonishment. A man went riding past, at least Harriet thought he was riding. He was sitting as if astride a horse, but there was no horse beneath him as he moved past Harriet.

As he turned, Harriet saw that he was wearing a horrid death mask, much as the Death Eaters themselves wore, and he was brandishing a long, curved, jet-black sword. At least, Harriet thought it was black. As he raised it high and rode back past Harriet, ready to swing the sword down at another Death Eater, Harriet saw that it was in fact dripping in blood.

Harriet risked raising her head to look back at the scene behind her. The Death Eaters were gathering in a huddled circle, firing curses in all directions. Lord Voldemort was looking enraged, firing curses of his own, but the horsemen on their invisible horses seemed to dodge the curses with lazy ease, as if the spells were moving in slow motion.

Another horseman darted past the Death Eaters. This one had an axe and swung it with an almost graceful arc towards the huddled Death Eaters. Something hurtled through the air towards Harriet, hitting the ground a few feet from her with a sickening thud. Harriet watched and gaped in horror. It was a human head, severed diagonally from just under the left ear to the right base of the neck. The Death Eater mask had fallen off. She didn’t recognize the face, but the eyes and mouth were both gaping, locked in an expression of terror.

Harriet was finally sick, vomiting all over the ground. She looked up as the horseman who had done the beheading rode towards them. He leaned far over and stretched out his hand. He scooped up the head with ease and righted himself in the saddle. Harriet watched him as he dropped the head into a sack, until he disappeared out of sight around another large headstone.

That’s when Harriet saw him. In the distance, standing on a hill, lit by the faint light of the moon, was another rider who was not joining in the fray. Even at this distance, Harriet could see his eyes glowing like an animal’s. He did not seem to be wearing a mask like the other riders.

That was not what was unsettling. As Harriet watched, beneath the man, slowly his mount was coming into view. It started at the tip of its nose, and slowly spread back to reveal the head, neck, and body, just as the shadowy figures had emerged from Lord Voldemort’s wand. This beast was like no beast Harriet had ever seen before.

It was in roughly the same shape as a horse, but the most horrible horse Harriet had ever seen. Its head looked more like that of a dragon. It was so thin that even at this distance, Harriet could make out all the bones in its long legs. It had no main, and its tail was long and thin like a whip, rather than a horse’s long flowing tail. Finally, jutting from its shoulders, was a pair of long, bat-like wings it was slowly stretching and folding again. It pawed the ground, and Harriet saw that its feet were large claws, rather than a horse’s hooves.

Harriet looked back at the Death Eaters. They were Disapparating, fleeing in panic now. Harriet now saw that all the riders who had once been floating in the air were riding the same beasts as the rider on the hill.

Now was her chance. Keeping low so as not to attract the attention of Lord Voldemort, the Death Eaters, or the riders, Harriet crept the last few yards to the Triwizard Cup. She exhaled in relief, and took hold of the handle. At once, the familiar, and unpleasant sensation of having her stomach jerked forward from just behind her navel hit her, and the graveyard was left behind, vanishing in a whirl of colour as the Cup whisked her back to Hogwarts.


	42. A Parting of the Ways

“When the war began, I was prepared for the conflict. I was prepared for destruction. I was prepared for the casualties. Because we were right. However, that did not prepare me for the sight of my own flesh and blood amongst the enemy ranks."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet hit solid ground. The cup was bounced out of her arms as she landed flat on her stomach. She saw stars as her head bounced off the earth. Harriet rolled on her back, clutching her stomach, trying to get her wind back. She opened her eyes. At first, the world was spinning, but quickly the real stars came into focus, twinkling down at her placidly. Everything was silent, and then…

“HARRIET!”

The voice rent the silence as sharply as the rider’s axe had severed the death eater’s neck. The mix of sheer panic, fear, and yet relief in the voice jolted Harriet to her very core. For the first time since she heard Bagman’s whistle and started running into the maze, Harriet was afraid. Not just afraid, she was terrified.

There was the sound of hammering feet and before Harriet could blink, strong, trembling hands took hold of her upper arms and yanked her upright. She found herself face to face with Daniel. His face was so torn with worry that Harriet did not recognize him at first. The look only increased Harriet’s own growing sense of terror.

Daniel’s lips were moving, but Harriet’s mind felt like it was stopped. She couldn’t register anything he was saying. She could only hear Lord Voldemort’s terrible voice. She could only see his horrible, skeletal, white body rising from the cauldron. She could only feel the terrible, stabbing, burning pain in her scar. It was the pain that brought her back to reality, and she clapped a hand to her forehead, crying out in agony. Wherever he was, Lord Voldemort was beside himself with rage.

“SOMEONE GET MAI!” Harriet heard Daniel bellow.

The pain finally started to recede. Harriet became aware that people now surrounded her. Not just a few, but an entire crowd of them, all leaning in and looking down upon her with mixed confusion, curiosity, and worry.

“Harriet, Harriet, sweetie, talk to me,” Daniel said, his voice and hands trembling as he held her. “What happened? Are you alright? Harriet please…”

Harriet felt a sob force its way into her throat. She let go of the cup and put her hands on Daniel’s face. She had to touch him. She had to convince herself that he was real, that she had really survived.

She had done it. She had made it back to him. Harriet kept staring at him, before throwing her arms around his neck. She felt Daniel’s arms wrap around her, holding her just as tightly, resting a hand on the back of her head as she began sobbing into his shoulder.

“He’s back,” Harriet managed to choke through her tears. “Voldemort… he’s got his body back.”

She felt Daniel’s arms go rigid.

“What on earth is going on?” Harriet heard the irritable voice of Cornelius Fudge over the murmuring and gossiping crowd. “Great Merlin’s beard! She’s back!”

The next face that Harriet saw was Professor Dumbledore’s. The sight only raised Harriet’s sense of alarm. She had never seen such a look on Professor Dumbledore’s face before. Professor Dumbledore was the most powerful person Harriet had ever met, and the look of near panic on his face chilled Harriet to her very core.

The look only lasted a moment. It was at once replaced with relief and Professor Dumbledore hurried over to the pair. As he did, Harriet turned her attention to the rest of the crowd.

She could see her friends’ faces now. They looked just as terrified as Daniel and Professor Dumbledore had. Hermione had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were red and Harriet could see the streaks of tears on her cheeks. Marcus was standing just behind Hermione. He had his hands on her shoulders; his face deathly pale. Kieran was leaning heavily to the side, keeping the weight off his bad leg. He was panting, and had clearly tried his best to run over, despite his leg brace.

Dora and Ronnie were holding hands. Dora’s face was finally starting to show relief, while Ronnie still looked dumbstruck. Scott was chewing his lip, his face hard to read, as if he had no idea what he was feeling. He was standing side-by-side with Colm, who had an arm around Scott’s shoulder, comforting.

Finn was standing beside Colm. He looked just as confused as the rest of the crowd. Harriet hated seeing worry on his face. Her eyes found Fred’s face as well. He was struggling through the crowd, trying to get closer. His face broke into relief at the sight of her, and he seemed to deflate.

Some movement to her side made Harriet look around. It was Aurora, Nanette, and Rosie hurrying over. Harriet didn’t hesitate. She held out an arm to them. The trio reached them and knelt down, the girls hugging Harriet but Aurora putting her hands on Harriet’s cheeks, inspecting her the way Daniel had done.

“Oh, Harriet,” Aurora said, her voice trembling. “Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you?”

“M’fine,” Harriet mumbled, unsure of how truthful she was being.

“It’s alright,” Professor Dumbledore said in his gentlest voice. “She’s back, and she’s safe and sound.”

“SAFE?!” Daniel cried out. He let go of her and rose to his feet, towering over the crouching Professor Dumbledore. “HOW IS SHE SAFE?!” Daniel continued to rage. “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO HER?! WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE STOPPING THIS!”

Professor Dumbledore simply stared up at Daniel. He looked as though he had been frozen into a statue. Daniel was breathing as heavily as Kieran now. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Daniel…”

Harriet looked around. It was Remus. Remus walked up, and rested a kindly hand on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel’s rage did not abate, however. The glare he bent on Professor Dumbledore continued to burn.

“Kinney’s bested all of us… Harriet’s back… we have to find out what happened. We can’t turn on each other now… not again. It’s what cost us everything before…”

These words triggered something in Harriet’s memory. The vision of her father’s grey face loomed in her mind’s eye. _They’re going to need you now more than ever in the days ahead... Especially Daniel, and tell him... tell him I’m sorry..._

Harriet broke down. She doubled over, sobbing. It felt as though every emotion in the world was forcing its way through her mind at once. She felt relief at being back safe and sound, yet she still felt the terror of all she had been through. She felt rage as well; anger over how she had been forced to go through all of this, anger at all of the injustices.

No one said anything. She felt Daniel and Aurora’s hands gently lifting her to her feet. She could barely stand. She just felt her sobs; now unstoppable, wracking her body.

“C-come… come on…” she heard Sirius speak up nearby. He sounded hollow, as though it wasn’t really Sirius speaking. “Let’s… get her to the hospital wing…”

“No,” Harriet heard Professor Howe’s voice now. “Albus’ office.”

“I demand to know what is going on!” Cornelius Fudge demanded.

“We will get to the bottom of it in Albus’ office,” Professor Howe said. “Not here…”

Harriet couldn’t open her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Daniel and Aurora, holding them as close to her as she could as the little group began to make its way towards the school. Harriet could hear people talking around her, but she couldn’t register anything being said. She didn’t care. She was still trying to decide if she should be happy, scared, or enraged.

Once away from the crowd, the group fell silent. Harriet could only hear her own sobs and the sound of their feet. By the time they got halfway to the school, Harriet had run out of sobs. She finally opened her eyes, but all she could do was stare blankly.

All Harriet felt was numb. She had made it. She had survived. But she had also come so close to losing it all. She had nearly been taken and forced to begin studying the Dark Arts. She had nearly been killed.

Yet, despite it all, she was alive.

She was alive…

The group entered the school and headed staircase towards Professor Dumbledore’s office. Professor Dumbledore gave his gargoyle the password, and slowly the group filed up the moving, spiral staircase.

Once in the office, Professor Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk. Daniel and Aurora guided Harriet to the comfortable chair in front of Professor Dumbledore’s desk. They remained kneeling beside her as Harriet sat, each holding one of her hands. Harriet didn’t look around the room as she usually did. She simply kept staring at her knees.

“Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore finally spoke up, his throat sounded tight. “I have no right to make you relive what happened to you tonight, but I please ask you to understand that we must know… we must know what happened to you tonight, after you touched the cup.”

Harriet felt a slight trembling come over her. Her mind flashed with the horrible memories. She slowly forced herself to look up into Professor Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes. She was again surprised. Just as Hermione, there were tears in Professor Dumbledore’s eyes.

Harriet heard a rustle of wings. There was a flash of red and a soft weight rested upon her knee. Fawkes, the phoenix, had flown down to her. In spite of everything, Harriet smiled at the sight of the bird. She remembered her shock in her second year when Fawkes had ‘died’ in front of her and Professor Howe had explained to her all about phoenixes. She remembered the way Fawkes had come to help her in the Chamber of Secrets.

Fawkes gave a lyrical twitter and Harriet felt her heart lift. She took a deep breath, and began to recount her tale. The room fell deathly quiet as Harriet spoke. No one moved, or said a word.

That is, not until Harriet told them how Wormtail had taken blood from her arm. Aurora and the Marauders all made sounds of outrage and Professor Dumbledore rose at once. He rounded his desk quickly and knelt before Harriet. He slid up the sleeve of her jumpsuit inspecting the cut.

“He said my blood would make him stronger,” Harriet explained. “He said the protection my mother left in me… he said he would have it too… and he was right… he could touch me without hurting himself…”

It was only a fleeting moment, in fact Harriet thought she must have been mistaken, but for an instant, Harriet thought she saw something like relief pass over Professor Dumbledore’s face. However, after Harriet blinked, Professor Dumbledore’s face was sullen and tired once more. He rose and made his way slowly back to his chair, sinking into it.

“Very well… so Lord Voldemort has managed to overcome that particular barrier. Please, Harriet, continue.”

Harriet resumed her account. She described Voldemort rising from the cauldron, and she told them all she could remember of Lord Voldemort’s speech to the Death Eaters.

Once more, something about Professor Dumbledore gave Harriet pause. As Harriet told them how Lord Voldemort was planning to turn her to the Dark Arts, how he wasn’t planning to kill her, a wave of shock passed over Professor Dumbledore’s face. Harriet was sure she wasn’t mistaken this time. She didn’t think anyone else saw; they were all looking at Harriet.

All except Professor Howe. Professor Howe must have seen. Professor Howe was looking at Professor Dumbledore, and his eyes were burning with a fury Harriet had never seen in them before. His arms were crossed, and his jaw set.

Professor Dumbledore’s eyes met Professor Howe’s. Harriet saw the horror fade from Professor Dumbledore’s face and he seemed to deflate in his chair, looking utterly defeated.

“Go on, please, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said in a small, hollow voice.

Harriet did so. She told them all how Crouch, Jr had blown-up the fire pit and the cauldron. How Harriet had used the opportunity to disarm Lord Voldemort.

This caused quite the uproar.

“You disarmed the Dark Lord?” Professor Snape exclaimed.

The sound of his voice made Harriet jump. She had not realized he was in the room. In fact, Harriet saw there were far more people in the room than she thought. The room was in fact quite crowded now that she looked around. There was Professor McGonagall, and Professor Morrisey. Even Professor Ilves of Durmstrang was there. She was glancing back and forth between Harriet and Professor Snape. General Wengshuk was also there. He was sitting solemnly, slowly stroking his long beard, deep in thought.

Harriet blinked. Everyone it seemed was here except Cornelius Fudge. Where had he gone?

Harriet shook her head, and continued. Now, she came to the part where Lord Voldemort had nearly killed her. Harriet’s voice caught in her throat. She felt the tears coming back as she remembered the sight of her parents’ faces.

“The wands connected?” Sirius said, trying to make sense of it all. “Why?”

“Priori Incantatem,” Professor Dumbledore said, his voice frail.

“The reverse spell effect?” Daniel asked.

“Correct,” Professor Dumbledore confirmed. “Harriet’s wand and Lord Voldemort’s wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact,” Professor Dumbledore explained, holding out his hand to indicate Fawkes.

“My wand’s feather came from Fawkes?” Harriet asked, looking down at the beautiful red bird who warbled serenely.

“Yes,” Professor Dumbledore nodded. “Mr Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand the moment you left his shop four years ago.”

“But… how did that trigger Priori Incantatem?” Remus asked.

“When wands are forced to face their sibling, they will not work properly against one another,” Professor Dumbledore explained. “However, if the owners force the wands to do battle… a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed—in reverse order.”

Harriet stared at Professor Dumbledore. She remembered how the wand had emitted screams; echoing the cries of those it had tortured. Then it had made a smoke shadow of Wormtail’s hand. And then…

“Which means… that some form of an old man might have appeared?” Professor Dumbledore asked, studying Harriet shrewdly.

Harriet stared at him, amazed. How had he known? She nodded slowly.

“And Bertha Jorkins…?”

Harriet nodded again.

“Jorkins came back to life?” Sirius asked, stunned.

Professor Dumbledore sighed. “No spell can reawaken the dead. All that would have appeared would be a sort of… echo: a shadow of the living person, bearing their appearance and character.”

Professor Dumbledore’s eyes pierced Harriet’s again. Understanding seemed to sweep between them. Harriet knew then that Professor Dumbledore had guessed already who else had come out of the wand.

“And… two more would have appeared…” Professor Dumbledore said, his voice only just loud enough to be heard.

Harriet felt her lip tremble and she sniffed. “Yes…” Harriet choked. “M-mum… Mum and Dad…”

Daniel’s hand clenched tight on Harriet’s, and his face went blank, his body rigid. Sirius looked as though someone had punched him, while Remus’ face was ghostly white.

“Yes…” Professor Dumbledore sighed. “The last murders the wand performed… in reverse order. You would have seen more, had the connection continued. Very well, Harriet… what did the shadows do?”

“Spoke to me,” Harriet said, her throat tight. “They encouraged me, told me what to do…”

Harriet sniffed. She took a deep breath and continued. “Mum and Dad… they… they said how proud of me they were… s-said to be a good big sister… and Dad…” Harriet slowly looked up at Daniel. “He said to tell you he’s sorry…”

A tear formed in one of Daniel’s eyes now. His lips tightened. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but couldn’t form words. Harriet was about to continue, when there was the sound of voices from the staircase. Everyone looked around and the door opened. Cornelius Fudge had finally arrived. Kinsley Shacklebolt was with him, now.

“The devil were you thinking, Dumbledore?” Cornelius Fudge demanded, looking ruffled. “What in the name of Merlin is going on? We’re still trying to sort out Diggory! He’s running through the maze acting as though he still has to get to the cup! He wouldn’t listen to any of us when we told him the task was finished! And what the devil happened to Potter? Where on earth did Kinney send her?”

Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair, giving Fudge a grave look.

“I’m afraid, Cornelius, that Harriet has just confirmed what I warned you of the night of Crouch, Jr’s reveal and escape. Solomon Kinney sent Harriet to Lord Voldemort. He used her blood to rebuild himself a body. He is returned to full strength.”

Cornelius Fudge stared at Professor Dumbledore. His mouth was hanging open, as if someone had just dropped a heavy weight onto his head.

“Wh-what?” Fudge finally managed to splutter. “You-Know-Who? Back? Solomon Kinney working for him?”

Fudge shook his head, incredulous. “You yourself, and Howe, both told me Kinney would never work for the likes of Lord Voldemort. They have completely different ideologies.”

“Solomon Kinney’s ideology is money,” Professor Howe finally spoke up. “Now that Lord Voldemort is back, he has money to offer.”

Fudge stared at him now. “But, Dumbledore… what evidence is there of this? I mean, obviously Kinney did something, but…” Fudge shot Harriet a sideways glance. “Have you found any evidence for this?”

“Harriet has just given her testimony of what happened,” Professor Dumbledore said. “She has been through a harrowing ordeal and proved herself equal to it.”

Cornelius Fudge gave Harriet another sideways glance. “That’s it?” he asked. “All you have for evidence is Harriet’s word?”

Sirius gave a snarl that was not all that dissimilar from his dog form. Kingsley Shacklebolt gave him a warning look.

“Of course I am, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Her account fits with all of Crouch, Jr’s story, and everything else that has happened this year. Lord Voldemort is returned. Yet we have an opportunity, Cornelius. If we act now, he is weakened. There is a disorder in his ranks. Crouch, Jr has defected from him, as Sherrod and I advised you after his escape. He has not remained loyal to him. Instead, he now sees Harriet as his future dark lady. Others will be sure to follow him. While Lord Voldemort and his forces are divided, he will not be as strong as he was previously.”

Harriet kept studying Fudge’s face. It was clear he wasn’t registering anything that Professor Dumbledore was telling him.

“Crouch, Jr sees Harriet as his knew dark lady, you say? And he’s working with Kinney…?” Fudge asked.

_Okay, so he was listening a little_ , Harriet thought.

“Yes, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore confirmed.

Fudge shook his head. “Dumbledore, how can you believe _You-Know-Who_ is back on just this evidence? It’s not even evidence! Crouch Junior was clearly out of his mind! How can we be sure this wasn’t all just memories he has planted in Harriet’s head? Have you checked to see if she’s been Confunded? You’re just going to listen to the story of a fourteen-year old girl and take her word for it?”

“You sunuvabitch…” Daniel growled under his breath.

Fudge spluttered, affronted. “Now see here, Mr Dusk! I know you have grown quite attached to Miss Potter, but she is not the second coming of Merlin!”

“Clearly some disagree,” Professor Morrisey muttered darkly.

Fudge rounded on him as well. “You’ll forgive me for being prudent, Morrisey! I’m not prepared to cause a panic over one girl’s word! If you ask me, a panic is just what Solomon Kinney wants!”

“Funnily enough, I agree with you, Minister,” Professor Morrisey said. “Kinney has shown time and again that his ambition is chaos and disorder. He wants to destabilize everything… but correct me if I’m wrong… wouldn’t a Lord Voldemort returned to power go much farther towards actually causing that panic and instability than simply saying he’s back? When enough time passes with no disappearances, no unfortunate accidents, no one being forced to do terrible acts… won’t the façade of a Dark Lord Returned crumble rather quickly?”

Fudge spluttered. He apparently had no rebuttal, and turned back to Professor Dumbledore instead.

“I simply cannot accept this without further evidence, Dumbledore!” Fudge said. “This will require serious investigation, and our Auror office is stretched thin enough hunting for Kinney in the first place!”

“There is no time, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore said. “We have to act and take the proper steps now. First and foremost, you must remove Azkaban from the control of the Dementors.”

“What?!” Fudge stammered, taking a step back, bumping into Shacklebolt. “Remove the Dementors?! Preposterous! I’d be thrown out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only sleep soundly at night knowing the Dementors are in place!”

“The rest of us sleep less soundly knowing that we have placed Lord Voldemort’s most fervent supporters in the hands of creatures who will join him the moment he asks them,” Professor Dumbledore retorted, leaning on his desk, studying Fudge over his half-moon spectacles. “They will not remain loyal to you, not when Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their infernal appetites.”

Fudge opened his mouth to say more when Professor Dumbledore cut him off.

“The second thing you must do—and at once—is send envoys to the giants.”

“Envoys to the giants?!” Fudge gasped. “End of my career! People hate them, Dumbledore!”

“Extend them the hand of friendship now, Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore continued as though Fudge had said nothing “before it is too late. Otherwise, nothing will stop Lord Voldemort from persuading them, as he did last time, that he alone will give them back their rights and freedom.”

“You—you cannot be serious!” Fudge declared. “People hate the giants! They’re savage monsters, Dumbledore!”

Professor Dumbledore did not move. He did not say another word. And yet, a sense of power and indescribable anger began to radiate from Professor Dumbledore. His eyes blazed with a fury Harriet did not think she had ever seen there before.

“You are blinded by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius!” Professor Dumbledore declared, now raising his voice.

Harriet found she could not look straight at Professor Dumbledore, as though he was the sun, too bright to look upon directly in his growing rage.

“You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood, and place wizard-kind upon a pedestal it does not deserve. Only weeks ago you saw the final member of a wizarding house as old as any, and look what he has chosen to make of his life.

“I tell you now—take these steps I am suggesting—and history will remember you as one of our bravest Ministers of all time. Fail to act, and you will be remembered as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy all that we hold dear!”

“Insane,” Fudge whispered, shaking his head. “Mad…”

Professor Snape sniffed and strode forward now. Fudge rounded on him, as though he thought Professor Snape was about to attack him. However, all Professor Snape did was draw up the left sleeve of his robe.

“There,” Professor Snape snarled, holding his left forearm in Fudge’s face. “There! The Dark Mark! It still burns black! Every Death Eater had this mark burned into their arm by the Dark Lord! It was a means of distinguishing each other, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the mark of any Death Eater we were to apparate to his side at once. It has been getting clearer and clearer all year.”

Fudge once more looked as though he’d been punched. Harriet glanced at Professor Ilves. She was giving Professor Snape a soft look that did not entirely suit her.

Fudge found his voice again, glowering at Professor Dumbledore. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough… I have—”

Fudge was cut off by a heavy thud on the door to the office.

“Enter,” Professor Dumbledore called.

The door opened and Harriet gave a small cry of shock, nearly jumping out of her chair. She recognized the figure that stood behind the door. It was one of the horsemen. He was wearing a heavy, brown robe, and his horrible, blank-faced mask. Even worse, Harriet saw a gleaming hand-axe hanging from his belt.

It was the same horseman who had beheaded the Death Eater. Harriet’s stomach churned as she saw the horseman was carrying a large, blood soaked sack in his left hand. Harriet knew what was in that sack, and she very much did not want to see that sack opened.

The horseman stepped into the room. Right behind him came Lord Darius. He was wearing armour much like Lord Rashid had worn. Harriet now recognized him as the distant rider. It had been Lord Darius and his vampires who attacked the Death Eaters.

Lord Darius’ large, black eyes scanned the room. He gave Fudge’s bemused face a look of amused disdain before he turned his attention to Professor Dumbledore.

“Our hunt has proved fruitful, Albus,” Lord Darius declared.

His voice sounded different to Harriet. He sounded raspy and gruff now, almost a growl.

“Darius, you didn’t…” Professor Dumbledore said, his eyes glancing down to the bloody sack.

Lord Darius snorted indifferently. “You wanted evidence, Albus,” Lord Darius said. “We procured it.”

He nodded to the horseman, who reached into the sack. Harriet closed her eyes, looking away. A wave of disgusted gasps filled the room.

“Avery!” Professor Snape cried.

“That’s a head!” Fudge gasped. “A human head!”

“Whoa!” exclaimed an excited voice from the corner.

Harriet looked around. She had forgotten that Rosie and Nanette were still in the room. Aurora had clearly forgotten as well. She hurried over to the girls and quickly turned them away from the sight. Nanette looked sick, but Harriet could see Rosie still trying to steal a peek.

“Avery? Was that his name?” Lord Darius asked, indifferent to the outrage. “We found him with the re-risen Nameless One. We were patrolling the area you suggested to us when we saw a golden glow below. Needless to say we investigated and saw Miss Potter pinned down by a hail of Stunning spells.”

Harriet looked away from Aurora and the twins. She caught sight of the head again and closed her eyes tight, grimacing in disgust.

“We took this from a second one,” Lord Darius said. Harriet heard the sickening sound of something else dropping with a heavy thud on the floor. “You’ll want to be on the lookout for a man missing his left arm. I imagine he’s in your Saint Mungo’s by now.”

Harriet’s felt as though she was going to be sick again.

“The arm bears the mark of the Nameless One,” Lord Darius continued. “Just like that one’s does.”

Harriet risked opening her eyes again. She saw Lord Darius pointing at Professor Snape. She caught sight of the severed head and arm out of the corner of her eye and had to look away once more.

Lord Darius gave a little laugh, and his voice became smoother, more like what Harriet remembered. “You’ll have to forgive me. The scent of blood and the thrill of the hunt tends to make us a bit… edgy.”

“That… that’s murder,” Fudge squeaked. “You killed that man!”

“A servant of the Nameless One,” Lord Darius said, his eyes finding Harriet. “No terrible loss. I believe the Eroină can confirm our story.”

Harriet furrowed her brow, though she kept her eyes closed. That was the second time he had called her that. She wondered what it meant.

“Kingsley!” Fudge spluttered, pointing at Lord Darius. “Arrest them!”

Lord Darius simply raised his eyebrows. Kingsley’s hand had barely moved when the second horseman appeared behind him, his long, curved sword at Kingsley’s throat. Harriet shook her head in shock. She hadn’t even seen that one enter the room.

“Asta ar fi o greșeală,” the horseman growled.

“He said ‘that would be a mistake’,” Lord Darius translated.

Kingsley slowly moved his hand away from his wand. The horseman’s sword did not budge, however.

“What is going on here, Dumbledore?!” Fudge demanded. “Now you’re consorting with vampires! They’ve killed someone! Possibly more!”

Fudge paced the rug, giving over to his anger completely.

“Solomon Kinney comes and blows up the _Daily Prophet!_ He burns down Hogsmeade! He murders a foreign dignitary right under our very nose! You keep telling me that you’re taking care of it and again and again he slips through your fing... ers…”

Fudge stopped. A look of dawning comprehension swept over his face as he slowly turned back to Professor Dumbledore.

“You… it’s all been you… all along…”

“Cornelius,” Professor Dumbledore said in a quelling voice.

“You have been behind all of this… it’s all been you! It all started with those refugees! I’ve received at least one howler a day about them ever since! Then all the sudden Kinney shows up… somehow able to slip around you at every turn… it all makes sense now…

“You brought him here, didn’t you! He’s been working for you all along!”

“You have even less evidence of that than you now have against Lord Voldemort being back,” Professor Morrisey observed, lazily.

“First Kinney bombs the _Daily Prophet_ … then there’s the attack on the World Cup… then Hogsmeade… now this… little by little my government’s credibility being eaten away… even the great Albus Dumbledore unable to stop him? Oh, this will require some serious investigation,” Fudge said. “Some very serious investigation indeed… You! Unhand my guard! We are leaving, and you had better leave as well before my Aurors return in force!”

The horseman finally lowered his sword from Kingsley’s neck.

“Thank you,” Kingsley said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“I expect you tomorrow at the Ministry for questioning, Albus,” Fudge said, darkly, heading towards the door.

Professor Dumbledore said nothing. Kingsley paused in the doorway, giving Professor Dumbledore an apologetic look before following Fudge from the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Tâmpit,” the sword-wielding horseman spat.

Lord Darius gave him a stern look. Professor Dumbledore sighed and strode into the middle of the room.

“Well, while I cannot say Fudge’s attitude is completely unexpected, it will complicate things considerably. Severus…”

The room turned to look at Professor Snape. His face was unreadable as he looked back at Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m sorry, Severus…” Professor Dumbledore said, gently. “But you know what I must now ask you to do…”

“Yes… Headmaster…” Professor Snape replied.

His voice sounded hollow. Professor Ilves put a hand on his shoulder. Professor Snape tensed up a little, and it looked as though he was about to throw it off when instead he deflated, his shoulders slumping.

Harriet stared. Despite his hair hanging in his face and his head hung low, Harriet could just see enough of his face. Professor Snape was very clearly afraid. Harriet’s mind kicked into gear again.

She remembered now. Lucius Malfoy had told Lord Voldemort that Professor Snape had told him Lord Voldemort was returning, and that Professor Snape was their spy still. Yet Professor Dumbledore, in the memory, said that Professor Snape had indeed been a spy for Lord Voldemort, but turned to become a spy for Professor Dumbledore instead. Harriet narrowed her eyes. Was he spying for Lord Voldemort now? Or had he been spying for Professor Dumbledore when talking to Lucius Malfoy?

Suddenly, Harriet felt a rising sense of panic. What if Professor Snape was spying for Lord Voldemort? Right this very moment? Harriet turned back to Professor Dumbledore to say something but to Harriet’s surprise Professor Dumbledore was standing right in front of her. He put a calming hand on her shoulder, as though he knew exactly what Harriet was thinking.

Harriet stared up at him. Did that mean Professor Snape really was their spy, after all? She looked back at Professor Snape. He was rising to his full height again, and his expression was back to its usual dourness. His eyes lingered on Harriet for a moment. Harriet remembered the very first time she had looked Professor Snape in the eye. Her scar had hurt, but that had been because Lord Voldemort was possessing Quirrell, who had been sitting next to Professor Snape at the time.

Hadn’t it?

But Professor Snape had also gone with Harriet to try and save Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets. She remembered the look of relief on his face when he pronounced that Colin Creevey had only been petrified, not killed. He had given Sirius Gillyweed to give to Harriet, and that had been well before Crouch, Jr had been revealed.

“Daniel, Aurora, Remus, Sirius? I would like you to take Harriet down to the Hospital Wing. I’m sure her friends are there looking for her already. She is to take a draught of dreamless sleep, and get a proper rest.”

Professor Dumbledore turned and sat behind his desk once more, looking at Harriet seriously.

“Harriet… tonight you displayed a bravery beyond that of almost any witch or wizard I have ever known. You faced the deadliest wizard of all time; not a memory in a book, nor a wisp possessing another, but fully restored to his body and powers, and your bravery and determination won. I will ask no more of you tonight… however, I have further preparations to make…”

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Professor Howe. Professor Howe’s face was still stone as his eyes burned bright and accusatory at Professor Dumbledore.

“…and a long overdue discussion needs to happen. Much must be done, in a situation now more perilous than ever. Jigme… would you please join us?”

“Of course, my old friend,” General Wengshuk said.

Fawkes twittered and flew over to his perch next to General Wengshuk. The General smiled kindly up at the bird, giving his hand a flick and a peanut appeared in it. He held it up for Fawkes and the phoenix warbled and plucked it neatly from his fingers, cracking it with his beak and pecking out the kernels inside. General Wengshuk chuckled and gently stroked Fawkes’ beautiful red plumage.

Professor Dumbledore turned to Professor Ilves. “Aloyna… I should like your help as well. And if you would be so kind as to summon Professor Cato and Madam Maxime…?”

Professor Ilves simply nodded. Her left hand was still resting on Professor Snape’s shoulder. Harriet studied her. She had known about Professor Snape’s Dark Mark getting darker. Had she been a Death Eater as well? Was she the missing Death Eater Lord Voldemort had mentioned?

Professor Ilves noticed Harriet looking. She seemed to know what Harriet was thinking as she followed Harriet’s gaze to her left arm. She tilted her head back and sniffed with insult. She took her left hand off Professor Snape’s shoulder and gave her wrist a flick. The sleeve of her robe slid down and Harriet saw the skin of her arm was clean and unmarked. Before anyone else noticed, Professor Ilves lowered her arm, the sleeve sliding back down, and she resumed looking around the room haughtily.

Harriet puzzled over this, but was distracted from thinking about it further as Daniel stood, gently taking Harriet’s arm. She rose, walking with him, Remus and Sirius towards the door. Daniel pause to put an arm around Aurora’s shoulder.

“Come on, Love,” he said softly.

Aurora took a deep breath and guided the girls from the room. Nanette looked queasy, but Rosie kept trying to steal glances at the vampires and the severed head and arm. Daniel sighed and they filed out through the door, riding in silence down the spiral staircase.

They got into the hallway, and the group started down the corridor. Nanette shivered, looking at Harriet.

“So… did you see them… do that?”

Harriet couldn’t find words. She could only nod.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Aurora said, an arm around Nanette’s shoulder. “It’s over now…”

Harriet took a deep breath. Now that she was out of the room, now it was all over, she was getting exhausted. Her feet felt heavier and heavier the closer they got to the Hospital Wing. They heard some commotion inside as they reached the door to the Hospital Wing. Daniel furrowed his brow as he opened the door and peered inside.

Harriet leaned over to look in too. She saw Mrs Weasley and Bill, along with all her friends, George, and Fred. Mrs Weasley was speaking angrily to Madame Pomfrey, apparently demanding to know where Harriet was.

“Over here, Molly…” Aurora said. Her voice sounded as weary as Harriet felt.

“Harriet! Oh, Harriet!” Mrs Weasley said, bustling over. She pulled Harriet into a crushing embrace, tears in her eyes.

“She’s… she’s okay, Molly,” Aurora said. “She’s… safe…”

“Oh, Aurora,” Mrs Weasley said, and gave Aurora a hug as well.

Harriet looked past Mrs Weasley to her friends. They were all still looking at her with worried, almost scared looks.

“I’m okay…” Harriet managed to say, unable to meet their eyes. “I’m just… tired…”

“Yes, let’s get you in bed, dear,” Mrs Weasley said, stroking Harriet’s hair, and together with Aurora, guided Harriet to the nearest bed.

They pulled the curtains closed around Harriet’s bed, helping her get undressed and into a nightgown. Outside the curtain, Harriet could hear Daniel, Remus, and Sirius talking to the others and Madame Pomfrey, explaining the situation. Harriet climbed into bed and Mrs Weasley pulled back the curtain.

Daniel and Aurora sat next to Harriet on one side of her bed, Mrs Weasley on the other. Bill and Harriet’s friends pulled over other chairs. Harriet looked at Remus and Sirius. Neither were sitting, instead were lingering near the door. Remus had his hand in his pocket, and Harriet knew it was holding his wand. They were standing guard.

“Are you really going to be okay?” Kieran asked. His face was stricken.

Harriet slowly nodded. Mrs Weasley’s lip wobbled as she stroked Harriet’s hair.

“Poor, sweet girl…” Mrs Weasley whispered.

Harriet looked around the room. She saw Aello in a bed nearby. Her chest was wrapped in bandages and she was sleeping fitfully, wincing when she breathed. Krum was sitting beside her bed, holding her hand in both of his. He wasn’t even glancing over at the other group as he kept staring at Aello, pained worry all over his face.

“Will she be alright?” Harriet asked Madame Pomfrey as she bustled up to them with a bottle of potion and a goblet.

“She’ll live. Some Skele-gro will do for her for now. As for you, you need to drink all of this, Potter,” Madame Pomfrey said, pouring out the potion into the goblet.

Harriet took the goblet and drank. She felt sleep beginning to wash over her as she drank, each swallow making her eyelids heavier and heavier. She finished the last swallow, handed the goblet to Daniel, and instantly drifted off to sleep.

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t know what it was that woke her. She was aware of a presence near her, though she assumed it was either Daniel, Aurora, or Mrs Weasley. She sighed softly trying to fall back asleep.

A soft but deep voice near her chuckled. “You always were a light sleeper.”

Harriet opened her eyes. The world was fuzzy, and she fumbled around for her glasses. A strong hand gently placed them into her hand for her and she put them on, Professor Dumbledore coming into view. He was sitting beside Mrs Weasley, who was sound asleep in her chair. Harriet looked around. Daniel and Aurora were also asleep. The chairs where Harriet’s friends had been sitting were empty. Harriet supposed they had been sent back to their dormitories.

“Where’s Sirius and Remus?” Harriet asked.

“Standing guard outside,” Professor Dumbledore reassured her.

Harriet glanced around at the other three adults.

“Don’t worry,” Professor Dumbledore said kindly. “They won’t hear a thing. I wanted to take some time to speak to you privately. There is a great deal that has changed tonight, including many of my plans… and it means that I finally owe you more than a few explanations.”

Harriet swallowed, sitting up. “I… Lord Voldemort… he said how my mother’s death put a protection on me… and it lasts as long as I’m living with my Aunt…”

“That is correct,” Professor Dumbledore said. “There is a serious dent in that armour now, but that protection still lingers and keeps you safe from a great many other dangers.”

“But… they’re so horrible to me…” Harriet said, unable to keep accusation out of her voice. “They’ve treated me like…”

Professor Dumbledore’s face sagged. It was one of the few times Harriet saw Professor Dumbledore for as old as he truly was. He looked ancient in his pain and sadness in the dim moonlight coming through the window.

“Yes… I’m afraid… something you’ll learn when you get older, Harriet… is that sometimes… there are no good options. The option I chose kept you alive, and kept you safe… that was what I thought mattered more than anything else.”

Harriet opened her mouth to speak, but Professor Dumbledore headed her off.

“I was wrong.”

Harriet closed her mouth.

“But I need you to understand… I need to tell you why Lord Voldemort chose you… why he tried to kill you so many years ago…”

Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath and in the moonlight, Harriet noted the twinkling of tears in his eyes.

“Shortly before you were born… I interviewed a candidate for the role of Divination teacher. I admit… I had considered dropping the subject from the Hogwarts curriculum… but she was the descendent of a famed seer, and so I did her the courtesy of an interview. I was… unimpressed…”

Harriet snorted. “It was Trelawney, wasn’t it?”

Professor Dumbledore’s lips twitched. “I was about to leave when she froze, and she gave a true prophecy. It was a prophecy that foretold of a child being born as the seventh month died, born to parents who had thrice defied Lord Voldemort, who would have the power to vanquish him once and for all.”

Harriet blinked. “Me…? I was foretold in a prophecy?”

“The funny thing is, Harriet… it might not have been you at all.”

“What?”

“There was another child born at the end of July that year, to parents who had escaped Lord Voldemort three times.” Professor Dumbledore took a deep breath. “Neville Longbottom.”

Harriet stared. “N-Neville?”

“Yes, Neville,” Professor Dumbledore confirmed.

“But… why did he choose me, then? Why not Neville?”

“That is a question that only Lord Voldemort can answer, but I can guess. For instance, Lord Voldemort is a half-blood, and by many standards of our magical world, so are you. Lord Voldemort chose the child who was the most like him of the two.”

Harriet chewed her lip. She tried to comprehend what Professor Dumbledore was telling her. It felt like so much all at once, and so out of nowhere.

“You see, Harriet… when Professor (to be) Trelawney gave that prophecy—of which she is completely unaware and it is likely better for her safety that she remains that way—one of Lord Voldemort’s supporters overheard half of it, but only the first half, before he was caught.”

“He was caught?” Harriet asked. “Who was it?”

Professor Dumbledore sighed. “You’ve known him for some time, I am afraid…”

“Professor Snape?!” Harriet exclaimed. She winced and glanced at the three adults around her. None of them stirred.

“Worry not, Harriet… they cannot hear a thing,” Professor Dumbledore assured her. “But you are correct… it was Professor Snape, shortly before he turned to our side precisely _because_ of what he overheard in the prophecy.”

Harriet’s mind began racing again as she started to connect more dots in her mind. She remembered the day that Professor Snape had given Sirius the gillyweed. Sirius had said that Professor Snape and Harriet’s mother used to be friends. She furrowed her brow, trying harder to remember. Professor Snape had wanted to know something before he left. He wanted to know if it was really Pettigrew who had killed all those people. But when Professor Snape asked, he had paused, as though he had really been going to ask something else.

Slowly, a dawning and terrible comprehension swept over Harriet. She gave Professor Dumbledore a sideways glance.

“Professor Snape was friends with my mother… right…?”

Professor Dumbledore did not respond right away. Harriet wondered if he had already guessed where she was trying to lead the discussion.

“Yes… he was… for a time,” Professor Dumbledore said.

“He…” Harriet fumbled for words. “He… liked her as more than a friend, didn’t he…?”

Professor Dumbledore remained silent. Somehow, his silence confirmed Harriet’s new suspicion just as much as if he had said yes. Harriet lay back on her pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I… can neither confirm nor deny anything, Harriet. The full details of why Professor Snape joined our side is a matter between myself and Professor Snape. Though, I daresay, if that _were_ the case…” Professor Dumbledore continued. “You just might remind said professor of how—perhaps—a child of his and Lily’s may look…”

_That’s it_ , Harriet thought, not entirely listening to Professor Dumbledore, _that’s why Professor Snape won’t talk to me. Will barely even look at me._

“Suffice it to say… once Professor Snape learned who it was that Lord Voldemort had picked as the child the prophecy had referred to, he came straight to me. From then on, he was our spy instead, working tirelessly to do all he could to save you and your parents.”

Harriet kept staring at the ceiling. She had absolutely no idea how to feel about any of this.

“You… you say he... only heard half the prophecy…?”

“Yes, Harriet,” Professor Dumbledore said. “He only heard the part that said a child with the power to defeat him would be born at the end of July. However…”

Professor Dumbledore drew his wand and gave it a flick. Harriet watched as his large stone pensieve rose up off the floor and settled at Harriet’s feet. Professor Dumbledore then drew out a small vial full of flowing steel-grey smoke and poured it into the basin. Harriet recognized it as a memory instantly. At once, the smoke rose and formed itself into a tiny figure of Professor Trelawney. Harriet felt a jolt in her chest as the smoke figure reminded her of the smoke shadows of her parents from only mere hours before.

To Harriet’s shock, the tiny figure spoke.

“ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark the child as his equal, but the child will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...._ ”

The tiny Trelawney sank back into the basin. The pair sat in silence for some time, both just looking down upon the swirling smoke or mist (Harriet still couldn’t decide what it was).

“That… what…” Harriet fumbled for words. “What did that mean?”

“It means that a child was born at the end of July to parents who had thrice escaped Lord Voldemort… as your parents and Neville’s parents had… and that Lord Voldemort himself would mark this child as his equal, yet the child would have the power that Lord Voldemort does not possess, or even understand.”

Harriet tried to make her mind work again. “But… what… I mean…”

“Tell me, Harriet… what was it that drove you to fight so hard tonight? What gave you a force that overpowered even Lord Voldemort?”

Harriet thought. Her eyes slowly drifted to Aurora and Daniel. “I… I don’t know… all I thought about was getting back to Daniel, and Aurora, and my friends… I… all I wanted was to see them again… all the time they were talking about making me into some dark witch, all I could think about was how I would keep trying to escape to get back…”

“Yes, Harriet… love… The greatest and most terrible force in the entire world.”

Harriet stared at Professor Dumbledore. “That’s it…? That’s the power I have that Lord Voldemort doesn’t?”

Professor Dumbledore heaved another great sigh. “Lord Voldemort does not love, Harriet. He cannot feel it. He is to be pitied for it… Oh yes,” Professor Dumbledore said, catching the sceptical look in Harriet’s eyes. “Love can force people to do great good, and great evil in this world. It is a power you possess in greater amounts than any person I have ever met, and which Lord Voldemort possesses naught.”

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward, giving Harriet his most serious look. “It was your love of Daniel and Aurora that pushed you to do what you accomplished tonight. It is a love so strong even the spectres of your parents picked up on it…”

Harriet felt her eyes begin to water and she looked away from Professor Dumbledore.

“It is a power you must learn to control, Harriet… It can help you do great things, but it can be twisted to lead you into doing terrible things, with very little effort…”

Professor Dumbledore’s eyes were boring into hers now.

“This is crucial, Harriet, that you understand this… now more than ever. I would not be telling you this now, so soon after such a terrible ordeal, if I did not believe that you are now in more danger than ever before, and it is only this knowledge that can help you.”

Harriet had no words. She felt hollow inside.

“Your friends and your new family give you strength, but they can be made into a weakness. Ask yourself, Harriet… would you be willing to kill for them?”

Harriet felt as though Professor Dumbledore had slapped her. How could he ask her that?

“Lord Darius tells me that he saw signs of headstones that were blown apart… hit by spells that could not have been cast by the Death Eaters,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Suppose one of those spells had not struck a headstone, but a Death Eater instead?”

Harriet’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought of that. She hadn’t thought at all as she tried to escape. All she was thinking about was getting away, of getting back to Daniel and the others. She also remembered how angry she had been over Rita Skeeter, about imagining her face on the dummies that Crouch, Jr was having her destroy.

“Yes… love is a beautiful, and terrible thing, Harriet… you will have to take the greatest of care over the next year to understand it. Over this past year, I have watched you from afar as you tried to grapple with your feelings towards young Masters Weasley and Negus, dealing with how Miss Flamel feels towards you, what exactly Daniel and now Aurora, Nanette, and Rosie mean to you…”

Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair, and once again he looked very old, almost frail.

“I know… from personal experience, Harriet… just how much love can twist a person into giving up everything they hold dear… I loved, once…”

A tear slid down Professor Dumbledore’s cheek.

“It was a love so great… I threw off nearly every principle I held dear. I allowed myself to become inflamed… to seek power and glory… and it cost me everything that I had left in life that I truly cared about.”

Professor Dumbledore sniffed and the pair sat in silence. Harriet wasn’t sure how long. Finally, Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“I do not mean to alarm you, Harriet… merely to prepare you. As I have said several times… now more than ever.”

Harriet nodded. “Yeah… with both Voldemort and Kinney on the loose…”

Professor Dumbledore’s lips tightened again. “I’m afraid… that is not the only problem.”

“Sir?”

Professor Dumbledore continued to give Harriet his grave, frail look. “I’m afraid… I have to leave.”

Harriet blinked. “…What?”

Sure, Harriet had been highly displeased with Professor Dumbledore over the last year, learning about how he had kept her at the Dursleys instead of letting Daniel take her. But leaving Hogwarts? Professor Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever feared, wasn’t he?

“You’re leaving? Now?” Harriet asked. She couldn’t keep a hint of betrayal out of her voice.

“I’m afraid so, Harriet… and just as I would not have told you all that I have told you tonight unless I thought it critically important, I would not be leaving tonight were it not equally important.”

“Tonight?!”

“Yes…” Professor Dumbledore sniffed. “You see, Harriet… much of my plans hinged on Lord Voldemort wanting to harm you should he ever return. But now that he does not seem so inclined to do so… my plans have to change somewhat. I cannot take it for granted that he will not continue to attempt to turn you to the Dark Arts.

“All this year you have had visions of Lord Voldemort’s thoughts… you have seen inside his mind. Should Lord Voldemort himself learn of this, he could foreseeably do the same in reverse. He could possess you from miles away, make you do terrible things.

“And so, as soon as I can, I am setting out with my old friend, General Wengshuk, to find something that will help fix the worst of the damage that was done the night that Lord Voldemort attacked your family. The last thing I have to ask of you is to continue to trust Professor Snape.”

“Sir…?”

“There is a method by which you may be able to hamper Lord Voldemort’s attempts to peer into your mind. It is called Occlumency. Professor Snape is highly skilled at both Legilimency and Occlumency. Therefore, beginning this summer, I am going to ask that you begin taking lessons with Professor Snape in how to do so… how to control your own abilities at Legilimency, and in Occlumency to block your mind from intrusion.”

Harriet opened her mouth, but still had no words and so closed it again.

“I assure you, that had I no other choice, I would give you these lessons myself. But Professor Snape rivals even myself in these areas, and so there is no better teacher I know of.”

Professor Dumbledore pulled out his pocket-watch and gave one last, forlorn sigh. “And now… I must be off, Harriet.”

Professor Dumbledore rose and jabbed his wand at the pensieve. It rose into the air and zoomed off out of the hospital wing. Harriet kept staring at Professor Dumbledore as he gave her one last, soft smile.

“I’m still so proud of you…”

Harriet felt her cheeks get warm. “Th-thanks, sir…”

“Farewell, Harriet…”

“Farewell, Professor.”

Professor Dumbledore chuckled. “Alas, Harriet… I already tendered my resignation ten minutes before I came to speak to you. So please, just Albus.”

Unbidden, Harriet smiled. “Albus.”


	43. Beginnings

“Never underestimate the humanity of your enemy.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet felt as though she was living in a very odd dream during the last week at Hogwarts. No one had been told what exactly had happened at the end of the final task. The most that anyone knew was that Solomon Kinney had infiltrated the task, and sent Harriet away somewhere.

A large part of Harriet’s mind wanted them all to know. She wanted them to know what she had done, how Lord Voldemort was back, how Harriet had defeated him and escaped. Yet, even Harriet had to admit that she had no proof whatsoever that anything of the sort had happened.

There was also the prophecy that Professor Dumbledore had shown her. It was a bizarre realization. Her birth had been foretold? Not only that, but she had the power to vanquish Lord Voldemort? However, the prophecy had not said which of them would win. And what had it meant by ‘neither can live with the other survives’? She had been too surprised by Professor Dumbledore’s proclamation that he was leaving to ask.

Her friends had apparently taken Professor Dumbledore’s request to not talk about what happened that night to heart. They were unusually grim and quiet around her every day that week. Harriet didn’t mind. She didn’t particularly want to talk about it with them. She was also remembering all too clearly what Professor Dumbledore had warned her about, how they could be a weakness to her. She didn’t want to put them in danger. And now, if Lord Voldemort was back, and could see inside her mind, he would be able to see who her friends were.

Cedric seemed deeply affected by what had happened to him. He was often sitting alone, quiet and reserved. Harriet noted that he seemed to have a hard time being around Cho either. Harriet could see the shame in Cedric’s face every time she came near him. He would always look at her and his face would freeze and drain of colour before he turned and walked away quickly.

These were not the only changes. Some of them were rather welcome. Sirius, for instance, visited the school almost daily to say hello to Harriet. Harriet also suspected his visits had something to do with Professor Spring. More than once Harriet saw him walking around the grounds with her, both talking animatedly and laughing loudly.

The most awkward thing to happen was Cornelius Fudge turning up the following day. He ran into Harriet just as she was heading out to walk down to Hagrid’s on her own. Harriet wasn’t sure what to expect when Fudge came, but it certainly wasn’t what she got. Fudge walked up to Harriet, giving her a very sympathetic, if not outright kindly smile.

“Your winnings, dear,” Fudge said as Kingsley Shacklebolt grunted holding up the heavy bag of a thousand galleons in prize money.

Harriet blinked, staring at the bag. She had almost completely forgotten about the Triwizard Tournament with everything that had happened, let alone the prize money.

“There… there should have been a ceremony… but you understand… under the circumstances of everything happening… well…” Fudge ran a pudgy hand over his bald-spot, clutching his bowler cap in the other hand. “Suffice it to say… you will no longer have to worry about the likes of Kinney and Dumbledore again. The Ministry is going to put things right, Harriet, mark my words.”

“Um… thanks…” Harriet muttered, completely perplexed by this.

“Well, Kingsley, if you would be so kind as to take that up to Miss Potter’s room for her. If you’ll excuse me, Harriet, I must speak to the new headmistress about future staff appointments.”

Harriet stared after Fudge. Kingsley gave her an apologetic look over his shoulder as he followed Fudge into the school. Fudge gave a curt nod to Hagrid as Hagrid ambled out the entrance doors. Hagrid returned it and his face broke into a warm smile as he saw Harriet.

“Hey,” Harriet smiled back. “I was just on my way to see you.”

They headed down to Hagrid’s hut where he made them a spot of tea. As they drank, he gave Harriet the unwelcome news that he was about to leave on a secret mission for the Order of the Phoenix.

“Can’t tell you that,” Hagrid said seriously when Harriet asked him the nature of his mission. “Top secret, that is. Going off with Madame Maxime. Off ter do summut that’ll fix the whole war, it will.”

Harriet grimaced. “We really are in a war, aren’t we?”

Hagrid sighed. “Yeah, we are. Whether the Ministry wants ter look facts in the face ‘r’not. We can’t as control thems as who won’t accept it. All we ‘ave ter do is keep goin’ and doing our best.”

Harriet wasn’t cheered by this, but she smiled all the same.

Hagrid around the grounds. “Gonner be strange, won’ it? Not bein’ ‘round. I’ve lived at ‘Ogwarts since I were younger’n’you are now. Ah but it won’t be f’rever.”

“No… it won’t…” Harriet agreed.

“B’sides, won’t just be me off tryin’ ter save the world.”

“Hm?”

“Perfesser Stratton and Sutler will be off doin’ summut, I know. Dunno what though, so don’t ask.”

Harriet pouted. That was going to be her very next question.

“So, we’ll have Binns back?”

Hagrid shrugged. “Dunno. More’n’like. McGonagall’s still tryin’ ter find summone ter teach mine and Sutler’s classes. I hear she’s already got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Didn’t say ‘oo yet. ‘Parently he hasn’t quite agreed.”

“He?”

“That’s as much as she’s said. She’s still huntin’ fer a new Transfiguration teacher. Heh, don’t fancy the school’ll like much who she’s got picked as her knew deputy head!”

Harriet gave Hagrid a sideways look. “…Who is it…?” she asked, suspecting the answer.

“Heh, your old favourite, Perfessor Snape,” Hagrid said, confirming Harriet’s suspicion.

Harriet thought about this. In his way, Harriet thought Professor Snape would probably make a pretty good deputy headmaster. He would certainly be good on the discipline front. Probably a little too good, in fact…

Then there were her pending lessons. On the one hand, Harriet was anxious to learn how to keep Lord Voldemort out of her mind. On the other, she still wasn’t sure how much she could trust Professor Snape. Not after what she overheard in the graveyard.

“So, want ter help with the last Skrewt? I was jokin’! Jokin’!”

## * * * *

Finally, the day arrived that Harriet had to pack her trunk to return to King’s Cross and sadly to Privet Drive. Harriet was ready now, at least. She at least understood why she had to live at Privet Drive, and why she had been forced to live there her whole life.

Harriet sighed, sitting alone in the dormitory on her packed trunk. She was looking out the open window, the bright, sunny blue sky contrasting starkly with Harriet’s mood. She now turned her attention to the two lumpy bags sitting on either side of her. She had carefully counted out the galleons of the prize money: two bags of five-hundred galleons each. She wondered how well her plan was going to work.

She was just about to stand and begin wheeling her trunk down the stairs when there was a flapping in the window and an annoyed squawk. Harriet looked around at the open window. Obelix the puffin was sitting there, breathing heavily, a package almost as large as him tied to one of his flat little feet.

“How on earth did you get that up here?” Harriet asked, shaking her head in amazement.

Obelix clacked his little beak, pecking at the package. Harriet crossed over to him, untying the string. Obelix leaned against the side of the window, still breathing heavily. Harriet giggled.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I won’t make you take anything back. You can rest.”

The little puffin gave an odd purring sound that Harriet took as a thanks and fluffed himself up, tucking his head under his wing for a nap. Harriet turned her attention to the package. Finn had never sent her a package before. She opened the attached letter.

 

_Dove,_

_I hope you’re doing alright, I figured you’d want some space after everything that happened but I figured if I waited another day before asking I’d lose my top._

Harriet smiled, and felt her cheeks get a little warm.

 

_I made this for you this week. It’s just a little something I threw together. We don’t know each other well, yet, so I thought maybe I’d help with that a bit. These are all just me, a guitar and a piano, just some of the songs that have really meant something to me over the years. I don’t know if they’ll really say as much about me as I think they do, but feck it, it’s what I’m doing._

Harriet rolled her eyes but her smile only grew.

 

_I can’t believe that Voldamore guy is back. Or however you fecking spell it. Colm seems terrified by him. He won’t even say his name. Only Professor Howe seems okay with saying it. Professor Howe told us all here that he’s back. Said the name out loud in the dining hall and half the magic kids leapt right out of their skins. Most don’t seem to want to believe him. My friends and I all do though. If Professor Howe says he’s back, then he’s back._

Harriet bit her lip. So Professor Howe was telling people that Lord Voldemort had returned? And what’s more, some people believed him. That was something, Harriet thought.

 

_Anyway, I hope you like this. Colm said it won’t work at Hogwarts. You’ll have to wait until you’re a ways away on the train back home._

_Professor Howe told me what you did to escape. You’re amazing. Truly amazing._

_Keep saving the world,_

_Finnegus_

 

Harriet’s blush grew as she set down the letter and opened the package’s wrapping. Inside was a new Sony Walkman cassette player with headphones. She opened the cassette tray and saw there was already a cassette inside. She pulled it out and read the label.

 

_Finn’s Favourites_

 

Harriet closed its tray and hastily stuffed the player and headphones into the pouch of her hoodie. She opened her trunk, put the money bags inside, and began wheeling it out of the room and down the stairs as best she could. She was now torn between wanting to get onto the train to listen to her music, and her reluctance to return so soon to Privet Drive.

 _There’s still Daniel_ , Harriet told herself, cheering herself further, _he’s still going to come for me._

Her friends were all waiting for her in the common room. By the looks of it, most everyone else had already gone down to the train. Harriet sighed looking around. She had hoped Fred and George might have stayed behind at least.

“All set?” Kieran asked.

Harriet looked around at all her friends. Even after a week, they were still treating her with kid gloves, as though she was a made of tissue paper and would crumple at any moment.

“Yeah,” Harriet said, starting to feel annoyed.

“Hey, it’s just going to be a couple months, now,” Ronnie said, the only one of the group that ever seemed cheerful anymore. “And hey, Mum said we can all come stay at my place for the summer!”

Harriet blinked but smiled. “Yeah,” she said, feeling her mood lift finally. “That would be great.”

Feeling much happier at the prospect of both getting to see the Weasleys and her friends, and Daniel and Aurora’s pending attempt to adopt her, and their wedding, Harriet headed off first, leading the group on the way down to the Entrance Hall and the carriages.

Everyone was milling about, talking in subdued voices. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that most were looking at her as she passed, whispering to each other.

“What are they all ruffled about?” Ronnie asked, giving the surrounding students dirty looks.

She caught the attention of two fifth year Ravenclaw boys who were standing nearby, muttering under their breath as they looked at Harriet. The boys froze as they looked at Ronnie’s threatening look. Even though she was only fifteen, Ronnie was one of the tallest kids in the entire school already, and in fairly good shape from her hard work in football.

The three stood motionless for a moment before Ronnie lurched towards them an inch. The two boys jumped back, reaching for their wands but Ronnie simply laughed and tossed her growing ponytail. Dora smirked after the boys, who were putting their wands away and slouching off as other students sniggered at them. Dora looped her arm in Ronnie’s and they continued towards the door.

As they went, Harriet was studying the crowd. She wasn’t paying attention to the gossipers. She was looking for Fred and Kazunari. She found Fleur Delacour first.

“Au revoir, ‘Arriet,” Fleur said, leaning down to peck Harriet three times back and forth on her cheeks. Harriet did her best not to blush.

“G-g’bye, Fleur,” Harriet said. “Take care of your sister.”

“Oh I weel,” Fleur replied.

“Farevell, Harriet,” Viktor Krum grunted, gruffly, as he shook Harriet’s hand. “I vant to thank you for alvays being so kind to me, even though I am from Durmstrang.”

Harriet smiled. “Don’t mention it. Look after Aello.”

Krum snorted. “That is vone thing in my life I vill never haff to vorry about,” he chuckled.

“Where is she?” Harriet asked, looking around.

“She told me this morning that she had to return to her barracks,” Krum replied. “But now she is of age, she said she is no longer required to stay, and so she vill be travelling down to Bulgaria.”

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione chimed in.

Krum smiled kindly at her, and bid them farewell before heading off out the main doors.

“I hope they’re not too hard on Aello for not winning the tournament…” Harriet muttered.

Scott shrugged. “She did defeat four acromantula, you said, including the one in the tournament, and a dragon, and a horde of mermaids… I think they’ll be impressed enough.”

“I hope you’re right…”

Harriet was starting to feel anxious. She still saw no sign of Kazunari anywhere. He had been absent most of the week, although his sister, Mayu, kept eating at the Gryffindor table with the other Four Nations students. She would give Harriet dirty looks every time their eyes met. Harriet was sure that Mayu blamed her for stunning her brother from behind. However, Harriet had to remind herself that had she not done so, Kinney might well of hurt Kazunari to keep him from getting to the cup before Harriet.

“There he is,” Ronnie said, going on tip-toe and pointing across the crowd. “Move, midgets,” Ronnie snapped at a crowd of second years who were in their way.

The second years scattered and Ronnie led the way through the crowd.

“Who are you looking for?” Hermione asked.

Harriet had only told Ronnie about her plan. Ronnie smiled back at Harriet as she stepped aside so Harriet could walk up to Kazunari. Kazunari was standing with his parents and Mayu. Mayu again fitted Harriet with her dirty stare, but their parents did not seem to share their daughter’s attitude as they smiled down at Harriet. Kazunari looked a little numb, now that Harriet saw him for the first time after the task was over. It was painful to her seeing him look so defeated.

“H-hi,” Harriet managed to say. “I… I just… first I wanted to say I’m really, really sorry about what happened…”

Kazunari sniffed, but his lips did give the slightest hint of a smile. “It… it is alright… you thought you were protecting your friend…”

“We were all supposed to be friends,” Harriet said. “That was the deal… and I forgot that and acted and didn’t stop to think… so… here.”

Harriet opened her trunk. She grunted as she pulled out one of the two bags of galleons and thrust it into Kazunari’s arms. He stumbled back a couple of steps, surprised at the weight, staring down at the bag in disbelief.

“H-Harriet… I cannot!” Kazunari stammered, his eyes wide with shock. His parents and Mayu all had their mouths hanging open.

“You earned it,” Harriet said. “You did better than me in all the tasks… you would have gotten to the cup first, I’m sure, if not for… well…”

Harriet forced a smile back onto her face. “Besides… this should be more than enough to help you move here and get Mayu into Hogwarts, right?”

Kazunari finally dropped the bag which hit the ground with a loud, jangling thud. Harriet was glad to see that it both missed his feet, and did not burst open.

Mayu broke down and flung her arms around Harriet’s neck. She spoke rapidly to Harriet in Japanese, nothing Harriet understood. She mostly repeated “sumimasen” and “arrigato” over and over.

This was repeated by both of Kazunari’s parents, though the only word they said that Harriet could understand was “arrigato.”

Harriet bid the Watanukis farewell, smiling over her shoulder at them. Mayu and their mother were hugging each other, crying tears of joy. As she watched, even Kazunari’s father pulled Kazunari into a tight hug. Kazunari’s face fell dumbstruck, and his eyes remained wide in shock as he slowly hugged his father back.

Harriet re-joined her friends and they finally made their way outside into the bright morning sun.

“That… that was awesome of you, Harriet,” Marcus grinned. “That was half your winnings, right?”

“Yep,” Harriet smiled back. “Now… I have to find who I’m giving the other half… to…”

Harriet stopped dead. Slowly, she felt herself start to tremble. She saw them, and yet somehow the sight of them did not immediately register in her conscious mind. They triggered her fear immediately.

There, standing right in front of her, hitched up two by two to each carriage, was the same winged monster horses that the vampires had ridden when attacking the Death Eaters. In the broad daylight, Harriet could see them clearly. Their skin was an almost greenish grey. Their skin looked the texture of already tanned leather, and was so taut over the creatures’ skeletons that Harriet could see their ribs quite clearly, and all the horrible points of their hips.

“You okay?” Dora asked.

Harriet took a breath and composed herself. Her eyes found Marcus’. His expression was hard to read as he looked up at her from further down the steps. Harriet looked back at the winged beasts. Now that she was thinking clearly, she remembered. Marcus had acted strange around the carriages all year. He could see them too, but clearly no one else could. Surely, her friends would all be remarking on this strange sight as well.

“F-fine,” Harriet managed to reply. “Just… bad memory…”

Her friends continued to give her confused looks. All except Marcus, whose look was still that of horrible understanding. They made their way to one of the carriages. Harriet kept glancing at the strange creatures. How could no one else but her and Marcus see them? Harriet had never seen them pull the carriages before, but now here they were, and no one else was saying a single thing about them. No one was even looking at them, just talking merrily about their summer plans and climbing into the carriages.

Harriet sat with her back to the front of the carriage as they rode down to Hogsmeade Station. She didn’t want to see the beasts through the window in the front of the carriage. She averted her eyes as casually as she could as they disembarked on to the platform. It wasn’t until they were safely onto the train and in a compartment that Harriet took a breath of relief.

Half an hour later, the train chugged away from the station. Harriet leaned against the window, looking out on the passing countryside. After a while, she decided it was high time to finally hunt down Fred, now that they were all on the train and there was nowhere for him to go.

Harriet excused herself from the compartment and headed for the front of the train first. She passed compartment after compartment, trying to find Fred and George. Frustrated they were not in the front part of the train, she headed towards the back. Could they have skipped the train, somehow?

“Boo.”

Harriet spun around. Without even hesitating, Harriet drew her wand and had it an inch away from Blaise Zabini’s nose.

“Whoa, jumpy are we?” Zabini smirked, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Standing either side of him, Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

“What do you want?” Harriet asked, not lowering her wand.

“Just curious what you’re doing wandering the corridors alone,” Zabini chuckled, and held up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harriet read the headline of the front page as Zabini held it open.

 

_DISGRACED EX-AUROR AND CRACKPOT HEADMASTER ATTEMPTS TO SPREAD PANIC_

 

“Dear, oh dear,” Zabini said shaking his head. “So sad to see such a brilliant mind like Howe’s go around the twist, isn’t it? Telling people the Dark Lord’s back…”

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled stupidly as Zabini tutted.

“You need to be more careful these days, Potter,” Zabini smirked. “A precious flower like you… could get damaged quite easily if you fell in with the wrong crowd…”

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed louder.

“A precious flower?” Harriet scoffed.

Zabini’s smirk grew. “Why hide it, Potter? You’ve blossomed this year…*

Harriet fought back a shiver as Zabini’s eyes roved over her. “All that running’s done you a lot of good, you know…? Those tight muscles in your legs… but just enough suppleness still… Slightly tarnished bloodline, but that can be bred out in the long run, can’t it?”

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you,” Harriet threatened Zabini’s cronies. “Your dear daddies nearly lost their heads didn’t they?”

Crabbe and Goyle stopped laughing.

“Oh yeah,” Harriet nodded. “I know they’re Death Eaters, and I have friends who’re vampires who don’t like them very much… I could send them ‘round to finish the job…”

Crabbe snarled and went for his wand. Harriet wasn’t sure exactly what happened next. She fired a hex at Crabbe, and it suddenly seemed as though the world had exploded. There was a cacophony of sound and flashes of dazzling light.

Harriet blinked the spots from her eyes. Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini were gone. Fred and George were standing there instead, their wands pointing down at the floor. Harriet looked down to see that Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini lying there unconscious. She grimaced, taking them in. All three of them looked distinctly the worse for all the spells that she, Fred, and George had fired.

“Oof, you used Furnunculus?” George asked, kneeling beside Crabbe, poking him with the tip of his wand. Crabbe’s body wibbled as though he was made of gelatin, and tiny tentacles were starting to sprout from his face.

“Yeah,” Harriet said.

“I used Jelly-legs. Guess those shouldn’t mix,” George chuckled, sliding open the door of the compartment Zabini and the goons had been waiting in before ambushing Harriet.

The three of them kicked the three boys into the compartment, shutting the door. Harriet leaned back against the opposite wall, panting from the effort, before looking up at Fred.

“Where were you?” she asked. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Fred grimaced. George rolled his eyes. “He’s been being a git. I finally made him come look for you.”

Harriet smiled. “I wanted to find you two, too. Both of you.”

“Both of us?” George asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet said, “come on.”

She led the twins back down the train, coming to the compartment with her friends. She slid the door open, climbed up on the seat to open her trunk, and hefted out the second sack of galleons.

“Here,” Harriet said, stuffing the sack awkwardly into Fred and George’s hands.

The twins gawked at Harriet, then down at the sack, then to Harriet, then down at the sack again.

“Harriet… this… this is…”

“Five hundred galleons. I think that should be enough to help you two start a joke shop, yeah?”

Harriet half-expected Fred and George to drop the bag as Kazunari had done.

“Harriet… we… we can’t…” Fred finally said. “I can’t…”

“Take it,” Harriet said. “I don’t need it, and I don’t want it. But I could do with a lot of laughs… and no one’s better at that than you.”

Fred went red as his hair. Harriet felt her cheeks warm too. She wasn’t sure if she had meant Fred individually, or she was speaking to both twins as she said that last bit.

“It… it’s definitely a start,” George said, his face turning from shock to a grin. “You’re amazing, you are.”

“Just give me a good discount,” Harriet said.

“Heh, for this? Anything you’d want will be free,” George laughed.

George looked at Fred, who was still staring at Harriet in disbelief.

“Say ‘thank you’, Fred,” George whispered.

“Thank you, Fred,” Fred said, robotically.

Harriet snorted with laughter. Fred’s face finally broke into the first true smile that Harriet had seen on it in weeks.

“Thanks, Harriet… really…” Fred said sincerely. “We can definitely get a start with this…”

“It’ll be tight,” George agreed. “But… yeah. It’ll definitely be a few months’ rent and some supplies until we start getting proper revenue.”

Fred and George headed off down the corridor, talking hurriedly about their business plans.

“Wow, they’re really serious about that, aren’t they?” Scott observed, leaning out into the corridor to watch Fred and George go.

“Yep,” Harriet said, retaking her seat by the window.

As Harriet sat, she felt something hard and angular in her lap. She put her hands in the pouch of her hoodie and drew out the Walkman that Finn had given her. Excitement quickly filled her as she began fumbling with the headphones. She should surely be far enough from Hogwarts for it to work now.

“Where’d you get that?” Dora asked.

“Finn sent it to me,” Harriet replied, managing to untangle the cord of the headphones and put them on. She hit play at once.

“ _Hey_ , _Dove_ ,” Finn’s voice crackled over the headphones. Harriet smiled, watching the countryside again as the tape continued.

“ _Dunno, this just seemed like a thing to do after I got back to Rathlin. A lot of these are songs that meant a lot to me growing up. I mean, eh not all of them are that old or nothin’ but I guess some make me think of you too, so that’s a thing. Anyway, uh… this first one is by a band not many people know—uh—called American Music Club. This song’s called_ Firefly.”

Harriet closed her eyes, resting her head against the window as she heard Finn’s guitar strum to life and Finn began to sing.

 

_“Come on beautiful we'll go sit on the front lawn_

_We'll watch the fireflies as the sun goes down_

_They don't live too long, just a flash and then they're gone_

_We'll laugh at them and watch the sun go down_

_You're so pretty baby_

_You're the prettiest thing I know_

_You're so pretty baby_

_Where did you go?”_

 

Harriet’s smile grew. The song ended and Finn spoke up again.

“ _So yeah, there’s uh… that’s that one. Next is… I don’t know… This bloke, Warren Zevon, he gave a little lecture and concert for us once a few years ago and he performed this song and it just… it really stuck with me. It’s_ Mohammed’s Radio.”

Harriet kept her eyes closed as she listened. Harriet had never heard of any of the songs before. The Dursleys never listened to contemporary music like this, and Dudley only ever listened to garbage.

Harriet kept listening until that side of the tape ended and flipped it over. Over and over she flipped the tape, in her own little world as her friends talked quietly amongst themselves. Harriet found one song in particular that she liked. It was the last song on the first side of the cassette, _If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out_ by someone called Cat Stevens. The tempo was upbeat and happy, and filled Harriet with a sense of lightness as she listened to it. In fact, Harriet couldn’t help but feel a compulsion to dance along to the song as she played it, rewound, played it, and rewound again.

Harriet didn’t open her eyes again until she felt the train slow as it began to pull into King’s Cross. Harriet sighed, but the smile did not leave her face entirely. She knew that Daniel, Aurora, Remus, and Sirius were going to be there to greet them. She had a sneaking suspicion that Daniel in particular had a few pieces of his mind he was going to give the Dursleys, and Harriet was quite excited to see that happen.

They pulled down their trunks (Harriet’s appreciably lighter without a thousand extra galleons in it), and climbed down off the train. All of the parents were there, waiting. Harriet gave hugs to Mr and Mrs Weasley, Kieran’s, Scott’s, and Dora’s parents. She knew that as muggles, Hermione’s parents and Marcus’ father were waiting out on platform nine for them.

Harriet shook her head in amusement at the forced smile that Daniel had on his face. Harriet knew that he was gearing himself up for an explosion. Aurora kept putting her hand on his shoulder, which seemed to calm him each time. With everyone together, they made their way towards the magical passage to platform nine.

They were almost there when Harriet saw someone that stopped her in her tracks. What was she doing here? Had she somehow wandered onto Platform 9 ¾ by accident?

Standing there, still wearing her carpet slippers, was Mrs Figg, the Dursley’s batty old neighbour. Mrs Figg was scanning the crowd, her hand unnecessarily to her forehead. Her face split into a wide grin as she finally spied Harriet and the rest, waving enthusiastically.

“Oh, there you are! There you are!” Mrs Figg said, hurrying over to them, her slippers flapping.

“Well hello, Arabella,” Daniel grinned.

“Oh, Daniel it is so good to see you again,” Mrs Figg said, going up on tip-toe to hug Daniel tightly, then Sirius and Remus.

Harriet felt like she’d been struck hard on the back of the head by a mallet. Mrs Figg knew Daniel, Remus and Sirius?

“Oh my sweet boys,” Mrs Figg said in a motherly way. “Look at you all, so grown up!”

“We were in our twenties the last time you saw us!” Sirius protested.

“Hush you,” Mrs Figg said pointing a finger at Sirius. Sirius went quiet at once.

“Wh-what…?” Harriet stammered.

Mrs Figg beamed down at Harriet. Daniel chuckled and leaned down to whisper in Harriet’s ear. “Mrs Figg is part of the Order, Harriet.”

“You’re a witch…?” Harriet asked, still trying to process this entirely unexpected revelation.

“A squib, dear,” Mrs Figg said kindly. “I’ve been watching over you your whole life… I’m _so_ sorry I had to be so miserable whenever you came ‘round, Harriet, dear. Your aunt and uncle never would have let you keep coming if they thought you enjoyed it. But I assure you, things will be much better in the time being.”

“Time being?” Daniel asked.

Mrs Figg’s eyes twinkled. “Why, Harriet’s coming home with me, Daniel dear, until the Ministry can finalise transferring Harriet’s custody to you and Aurora… _after your wedding of course_ …”

Mrs Figg put her hands on her hips, giving Daniel a stern look, though Harriet was sure she could see the corners of Mrs Figg’s mouth twitching.

“YOU TWO ARE GETTING MARRIED?!” Hermione squealed with delight.

Daniel gave an awkward laugh.

“I’m… I’m leaving the Dursleys…?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, dear,” Aurora and Mrs Figg replied in unison, to Hermione and Harriet respectively.

“Oh how wonderful!” Hermione exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

Harriet turned her attention to Daniel and Aurora.

“So… for real… you two are really getting married?”

Daniel put an arm around Aurora’s shoulder, beaming down at Harriet.

“WE’RE GONNA BE SISTERS!”

Nanette and Rosie both shrieked before embracing Harriet tightly. Harriet—her arms pinned down by the twins—could only look up at Daniel and Aurora in disbelief. She was leaving the Dursleys. She was going to stay with Mrs Figg until Daniel and Aurora could adopt her. Daniel and Aurora were going to be married. It was happening, it was really happening.

“How…? After all these years, how?” Daniel asked Mrs Figg, sounding just as stunned himself at that particular news.

“It seems the Ministry is quite eager to get Harriet into a more suitable environment. And… Professor Howe wrote to me mere days ago telling me to register as a caregiver… usually the paperwork takes quite some time but wouldn’t you know it, I got bumped right to the front of the list!”

Harriet gave a shriek of happiness and pulled Daniel, Aurora, and the twins into the tightest hug she could managed. The group continued to celebrate long after all the other families had left the station. They did not leave until the sun was nearly setting, and one of the janitors came to politely ask them if they could move on so the station could be cleaned.

Harriet’s mind was floating as she left the station with Mrs Figg. However, Harriet was not too distracted to stop and listen. It just wasn’t King’s Cross without hearing the violin. Sure enough, as Harriet listened hard, she heard it. However, it was not the usual songs this time. For the first time, Harriet recognized the tune being fiddled. She heard the words to the song in her head as she listened.

 

 _Well, if you want to sing out, sing out_  
And if you want to be free, be free  
'Cause there's a million things to be  
You know that there are…

## * * * *

An hour later, Professor Snape winced as he lowered himself into the tattered chair in the sitting room of his home. The punishment Lord Voldemort had given him for both failing to seek him, and failing to come to him when first summoned had lingered in his bones. His mind as well was still shaken from the questioning that Lord Voldemort had put him through.

He slowly sipped the soothing draught he had brewed, and slowly the pain abated. He moaned in relief, setting down the goblet. He looked around the house with disdain. He had lived in this house his entire life, and yet he hated every second spent within it. And yet, he could never leave. This house and all its accompanying memories was his penance.

He was at least blessedly alone. No half-witted students blowing up his classroom. He sighed, resting his head back against the chair, closing his eyes.

_Knock. Knock._

Professor Snape started. Had he heard that? He looked towards the hallway to the front door. No one ever came calling. Not even the postman. Were it another Death Eater, they would have announced their presence.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Professor Snape rose. There was indeed someone knocking on his door. Who on earth could be here to see him? And at this hour?

Professor Snape drew his wand slowly. He rose from his chair as quietly as he could, and crept towards the door. He stepped carefully, every squeaky floorboard memorised from his childhood, from all the nights he snuck out to escape.

 _Knock-knock-knock-knock_.

The knocking became more insistent as Professor Snape reached the door. Whoever it was wasn’t trying to be quiet, that was for sure. And if they were here to attack, surely they wouldn’t knock.

Professor Snape kept his wand out, but he slowly turned the handle, opening the door a crack. Whoever he had expected, it was not who he saw. Professor Snape stepped backwards quickly, staring down at the stricken face of Draco Malfoy.

“Malfoy? What on earth are you doing here?” Professor Snape asked.

Draco was almost shaking. Professor Snape wasn’t sure if it was fear, or anger. Possibly both at once.

“He’s back…” Draco said. “The Dark Lord… he’s back…”

“Malfoy, that’s—”

“I need your help,” Draco declared, stepping closer to Professor Snape, determination etched across the boy’s face, a determination that Professor Snape had never seen there before.

“The Dark Lord… he… he wants to hurt muggle-borns… I can’t let that happen… I have to stop him… for her…”

Professor Snape’s throat tightened, but he kept his face impassive as he looked down into the burning blue eyes. Professor Snape knew that look. How well he remembered the last time he too wore that look as he begged someone for help… _for her_.

“Come in…”

## * * * *

Meanwhile, Professor Howe opened the door to what was now Professor McGonagall’s office. The room looked much as it had under Professor Dumbledore. All the fascinating, silver magical instruments remained. All that was lacking was Professor Dumbledore himself, and Fawkes, the phoenix. Aside from Professor McGonagall, the only addition was a portrait of Professor Dumbledore right behind Professor McGonagall’s desk, dozing off with the other portraits.

“Good evening,” Professor Howe said in cheerful greeting as he hung up his ragged grey-blue hat and coat next to the door.

“Took your time of it,” Professor Morrisey snorted.

“Ah, well, tradition and all,” Professor Howe replied casually, striding across the room towards Professor McGonagall’s desk.

Professor McGonagall sniffed, leaning forward, her eyes flitting from Professor Morrisey to Professor Howe.

“Sorry, sorry,” Professor Howe chuckled as he sat.

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes. “I fail to see much humour, Sherrod. Solomon Kinney waltzed into this school, right past a horde of aurors with secrecy sensors and dark detectors as though they were a broken turn-style.”

Professor Howe sighed. “Yes, sorry, Minerva.”

“Has Solomon Kinney so wished, he could have killed Diggory, and Aello. I am not Professor Dumbledore. I am not the kind to sit and wait for my enemies to show themselves. I will not tolerate another intrusion into this school, be it Solomon Kinney or a death eater. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Minerva,” both men said at once.

Professor McGonagall sniffed. “Now, between the three of us we have more than an ounce’s worth of intelligence. How did he do it?”

“Well, let’s start with a process of elimination…” Professor Morrisey suggested. “He cannot have apparated into the grounds.”

Professor Howe ticked off one of his fingers. “Aurors guarded every gate, with secrecy sensors. Not even Kinney could have snuck past those. He couldn’t even have masqueraded as one of the aurors without setting off a sensor.”

“Aurors patrolled the forest as well,” Professor McGonagall added.

“Aurors guarded the old passage under the Whomping Willow at both ends…” Professor Morrisey mused.

“Someone would have seen him fly in…” Professor McGonagall muttered sitting back in her chair.

Professor Howe got to his feet again, pacing. “There’s something we’re missing… Some clue… some hint…”

“That will be difficult to deduce, I should think,” Professor Morrisey stroked his short beard. “Perhaps you are too close to this, Sherrod old boy?”

Professor Howe spun around, fixing Professor Morrisey with a look both curious and offended. “What do you mean?”

Professor Morrisey snorted. “Because I think Solomon Kinney thinks very much like you. You’re looking for an outside perspective, when I think you need to stop and ask yourself ‘what would I do?’”

Professor Howe’s eyes went out of focus. His right index finger twitched and his eyes jittered side to side rapidly, as if he was reading something floating in mid-air before him. His lips began to move, muttering to himself. Professor McGonagall and Morrisey watched as Professor Howe began to pace once more, still muttering to himself, his eyes still out of focus.

After a full minute he froze and spun around.

“My god… that’s it… we’ve been so stupid…”

“What is it, Sherrod?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“We’ve been looking in the wrong place,” Professor Howe said, hurrying past the two to the window. He looked out on the forest, leaning on the window sill, at once pleased with himself, and yet berating himself. “We’ve been looking in the wrong place all along…”

“What do you mean?” Professor McGonagall asked, apprehensively.

Professor Howe shook his head in self-disgust. “All this time we’ve been looking for someone… when all along we should have been looking for some _thing_ …”

## * * * *

The last golden galleon clinked as Solomon Kinney set it on the stack of twenty, jotting it down in his ledger. He stretched contentedly, finally finishing his accounting of the money paid to him by Lucius Malfoy.

Kinney allowed himself one self-satisfied smile. His plan was working even better than he had hoped. Lord Voldemort was back, fighting both Dumbledore and the Ministry. The Ministry was fighting Dumbledore. Dumbledore was fighting the Ministry and Voldemort.

Kinney rose and strode to the window of the old manor house. It was a gorgeous home. The owners had been very eager to sell it to him, for half the value. Kinney certainly wasn’t going to give them nothing for their trouble, but he wasn’t willing to part with more of his hard-earned coin than he had to.

A crackling noise made Kinney turn back to his desk. A flash of flames appeared in the air above the desk, and as Kinney watched, a red feather and a sheet of parchment floated lazily down onto the desktop.

Kinney strode over to the desk and picked up the parchment.

 

_To Solomon Nehemiah Kinney,_

_I feel I must (quite grudgingly) congratulate you. In scarcely two years you managed to do more to bring me down than Grindelwald or Lord Voldemort managed to do in the course of decades._

_I am correct in my deduction that this was your campaign all along, am I not? Tarnish my reputation with the Ministry and the magical world as a whole. Pit me at odds with the Ministry and Lord Voldemort at once._

_I admit my letter is rather later than I’d intended. I had to put some thought into what exactly your plan was. Everything seemed so discordant. Chaotic. Then, my good friend General Wengshuk made the astute, and rather simple, observation that this was of course your plan: chaos. Nothing else makes sense outside of that. I had asked myself: if you wanted power, why on earth would you help Lord Voldemort return to power?_

_The answer, of course, is you do not want power. A Lord Voldemort returned destabilizes the situation in the whole of Europe, not just Britain. A ministry that is focused on me as the enemy cannot properly face the real threat of Lord Voldemort. A Lord Voldemort returned but robbed of precious supporters, and afraid of both myself and now Miss Potter, questioning his own power, is a weakened Lord Voldemort. I, divided in my efforts to face both the Ministry’s meddling and Lord Voldemort’s machinations, am much easier an opponent to deal with._

_Bravo. Your plan almost worked swimmingly._

Kinney narrowed his eyes. _Almost_? He read on.

_But I’m afraid I must throw a wrench into your careful plans. You see, I have found something much more important to do, and I have plenty of friends who are willing to take the fight to both you and Lord Voldemort for me, who the Ministry is not as suspicious of. I, myself, am going to be leaving the country for a while. With me gone, I’m quite sure the Ministry will begin to look into the happenings surrounding an increasingly desperate Lord Voldemort._

Kinney sniffed.

_You have played a masterful game, Mr Kinney, but it would not be wise to celebrate just yet. This match is far from over._

_Most Kindly,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Kinney crumpled the letter and lazily tossed it into a nearby bin. _Well done, old man_ , Kinney thought. _But not quite there_. True, Dumbledore had apparently sussed out Kinney’s strategy. Sure, his leaving was a blow to the plan. However, Dumbledore was far from the mark about Kinney’s ultimate goals.

“He’s here, Solomon,” spoke a woman’s voice, with a distinct Northern Irish lilt.

Kinney looked up from the ancient hand-axe that hung on the wall that he had been studying. The shine on the axe was dull, clearly hand-forged, a true instrument of war. Kinney could practically smell the blood on it. He could spot a fellow veteran of warfare, whether it was a person or an implement.

Diamanda was standing in the doorway. She was the closest thing Kinney tolerated to a second in command. Mostly she was useful in taking care of Gideon while Kinney was away, or in carrying out attacks for him while he was elsewhere, either on vacation, or letting himself be seen somewhere else to sew confusion amongst his enemies who would otherwise blame him for the attack.

He supposed she was not unattractive. She was tall, with a thin but strong frame. Her hair was straight, shoulder length, and she had greyed young, a mix of silver and black. She had prominent cheekbones, and her eyes looked golden in certain lights. Kinney knew how she felt for him, but it mattered little. There was nothing left in him for her. Or for anyone else, for that matter.

“Show him in,” Kinney said.

Diamanda stepped aside and Crouch, Jr entered the room. He had a casual, lazy way of moving, Kinney noted. It was a walk designed to disarm the others in the room. Kinney also noted that he was still wearing Moody’s old black coat, as Crouch, Jr tossed it into a nearby chair. Kinney narrowed his eyes, but kept smiling.

“Nice place, this,” Crouch, Jr said, inspecting a nearby suit of armour.

“Thank you, Bart. I enjoy my comforts,” Kinney said. “And I like giving Gideon a taste for the finer things in life… it keeps him ambitious.”

Crouch, Jr snorted. Kinney continued to smile placidly, but the beast in the back of his mind began a low snarl.

“Speaking of… Diamanda? Would you please fetch Gideon for me? I have a surprise for him.”

“Yes, Solomon.”

Diamanda strode from the room. Crouch, Jr leaned over to keep her in sight as she left.

“Not bad… not bad… a unique beauty to her. So, what’s the plan now?” Crouch, Jr asked, flopping lackadaisically onto the love-seat in the corner.

“The plan now is we wait,” Kinney said.

Crouch, Jr sat up. “We wait? No, that’s not the plan. We have to keep moving… Lord Voldemort’s going to be hunting me. He can track me; you know? Through this,” Crouch, Jr said, pointing to his dark mark.

“Yes, I figured as much,” Kinney said, leaning back on his desk, crossing his arms. “That is why we must wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For our enemies to tear each other apart,” Kinney replied.

“It’s not going to be that easy,” Crouch, Jr said, rising from the seat. “You don’t know Lord Voldemort like I do.”

Crouch, Jr began pacing. “Harriet’s not ready… she’s not ready to do what needs to be done. She’s not ready to try and kill him yet. She’s still vulnerable…”

“Then we watch out for her, and we wait,” Kinney said. “The less we act, the less attention we draw.”

Crouch, Jr was about to retort when there was the sound of feet approaching. Diamanda had returned with Gideon. Kinney smiled warmly at his son; his boy who looked so like _her_.

“You wanted to see me, Papa?” Gideon asked.

“Yes, Gideon,” Kinney smiled wider, crouching so he was looking his son eye to eye. “Papa’s got his money, and we have more than enough for you to have a treat.”

“A treat?” Gideon asked, his eyes going wide with excitement.

Kinney’s grin grew. “Yes, how would you like to go to Disneyworld?”

Gideon gasped. “No way!”

“Yes way,” Kinney chuckled. He then laughed out loud as Gideon hugged him tight around the neck. Kinney hugged his son warmly in return before leaning back.

“Now, run and pack, we’re leaving tonight.”

“Yes, Papa!” Gideon grinned before he turned and scrambled from the room, slipping a little on the polished hardwood floor in his socks.

Diamanda smiled gently after the boy as she watched him go. Crouch, Jr, however, did not share in the good cheer.

“The fuck is this?” Crouch, Jr growled, pointing after Gideon. “We’re risking everything so you can play house with your whelp—”

It happened so fast that even Diamanda did not see it happen. One moment, Crouch, Jr was standing and shouting in Kinney’s face. The next, there was a horrible crashing and crunching sound. When Diamanda opened her eyes, Crouch, Jr was on his back on the ground, the smashed remains of the desk beneath him. Crouch, Jr was gasping for breath, wracked in pain, coughing up blood.

Solomon Kinney was transformed. His upper body had grown so large that it had shredded his shirt and white coat. His arms were massive and completely covered in shaggy black fur. His skin was black as well, and as he stepped back from the decimated body of Crouch, Jr, Diamanda saw his face was that of a gorilla’s.

She grimaced as she watched him shrink back down into a normal human form. Kinney was breathing heavily. That transformation always took a lot out of him. He had already broken out in a sweat, but he had a satisfied, hungry look on his face as he looked down on Crouch, Jr.

“Never insult my son, Bart…” Kinney said.

He snapped his fingers at Diamanda and pointed down at Crouch. Diamanda did not hesitate. She hurried over, kneeling beside Crouch, Jr, checking his vitals. Kinney strode across the room, over to his wash basin.

He began slowly wiping off the sweat with a wet washcloth, his joints popping loudly as he moved. Diamanda winced at the sound. His joints always popped like that when he transformed into something not human. His bones didn’t seem to transform quite as well as his external appearance.

“Will he live?” Kinney asked, his tone indifferent as he rubbed his face dry with a towel.

“He’ll live… he’ll be out of action for a few days at least,” Diamanda explained, waving her wand over Crouch, Jr’s now bare chest. She wrinkled her nose as she saw the imprint of Kinney’s gorilla knuckles in the skin over Crouch, Jr’s sternum. Kinney had done this with one hand. “You broke all his ribs… both his scapulae…”

 _Which is actually lucky, because if they hadn’t absorbed the impact you might have paralyzed him_ , she thought to herself.

Kinney sniffed, walking over to a dresser and pulling out a new shirt. He pulled it on, did up a new tie, and threw the tattered remains of his old shirt and coat into the bin with Dumbledore’s letter. Kinney looked over at Moody’s old coat. He supposed it would do. He had been meaning to find a new look. He picked the coat up off the chair and pulled it on. He was pleased to see that it fit rather well.

“How much more can he take?” Kinney asked.

“How do you mean?” Diamanda queried, distracted as she did her best to realign Crouch, Jr’s ribs with her wand so the Skele-Gro he would have to take would work more effectively.

“Because there’s one last tie to his old life that needs to be cut.”

Diamanda looked up, confused by what Kinney meant. She gasped and ducked to the side as she watched Kinney raise the hand-axe from the wall high over his head and bring it down with all his human strength on Crouch, Jr’s left arm. Diamanda clenched her eyes shut as blood splattered her face, and Crouch, Jr’s blood-choked screams of pain echoed through the empty manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn's playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT0t2hMxuCaAi1pSJ9DA1BY_sT2X_bPmA


End file.
